


You've Convinced Me

by PureDragon



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dreamtale (Undertale), Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Enemies to Friends, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, No Romance, No Smut, Sickfic, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 25,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24729394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PureDragon/pseuds/PureDragon
Summary: The endless fighting and unresolved sorrow.Dream is tired of it all.In his desperate act of selfishness, he ends up captured by Nightmare.
Relationships: Dream & Nightmare, Sans & Sans (Undertale)
Comments: 158
Kudos: 254





	1. Tears

He had tried.

Tried doing nothing.

That had been a horrible idea. There would be days where he would stare into nothing, wondering if his purpose was still worth going for. He longed to be back at the tree again, when his burdens had been lighter. He'd always felt so small and vulnerable. He hadn't changed at all, even after all this time.

If Dream were to be locked in another half millennia of this never ending battle, he didn't know if he could take it. If he gave up, would everything finally end?

In the end, his sulking had brought his brother before him, taunting him about how negative he had been feeling. Dream wanted to shut him up, to tell Nightmare how much he hated those expectations. But he said nothing, because it didn't matter in the end. Instead, he hardened his face into one of displeasure before facing his brother. It ended with a small scruffle, to which Nightmare went off. It didn't feel like a match of life and death.

Nothing had, lately.

Despite everything, the visit had motivated him. He realised that having anything to do at all took away that desolate feeling of futility.

He laughed hollowly to himself after his brother had long left. Everything was his fault. Nightmare's corruption was all his fault. His weakness and inability to stop that had been also his fault.

Therefore it was his obligation and his duty. To end everything once and for all.

* * *

Nightmare had been there, waiting for him.

They were alone again, as the battles usually went. Nightmare liked to isolate Dream from the rest, as he would like to 'deal with his brother himself'.

Even in the blazing blizzard, there was no rest for conflict. While the cold rattled their bones, they remained steadfast, eyes only on each other.

And then Dream looked down.

Dream was worried about Ink despite everything, as he had to deal with the rest of Nightmare's gang. But this worry was pushed away when a dark tentacle flew in his direction. He leaped away, like the many times before and the ground was hit instead.

"What's the matter Dream? Worried about your friend?" He laughed.

"Ink will do fine." He said tersely, despite his worry from earlier. If he could keep Nightmare away, Ink would be fine.

"Better keep your attention here then, because you're gonna need it." Nightmare started running towards him, unceasing in his attacks. Strike after strike, Dream had no time in between to ready his bow. He should really have started considering, investing into another weapon, one that was easier to use in close combat.

He used the bow itself to block off any incoming hits. But he couldn't launch any attack himself. His brother had four extra limbs and it just wasn't fair.

"Why do you keep doing this?" Dream asked tiredly. The question seemed simple enough, and one would think it had been asked hundreds of times. It probably had. But that didn't mean it had been answered.

"I thought by now you would have understood. I don't need to explain to you something so simple." Another tentacle blocked, deflected.

"Going around destroying everything, ruining people's lives, do you really have nothing better to do, brother?" Dream couldn't understand, why did Nightmare want so much power?

"Take a look at yourself. You travel through the multiverse helping others. Fixing their problems? Meddling in others' business? Who do you think you are?" He sneered. "What was it you think got us here like this in the first place?"

Those words caused Dream to flinch, and his guilt weighed heavily. "I..." he started, but found himself speechless. The sweeping tentacle he was supposed to jump away from tripped him, and onto the ground he went.

"You think I don't understand, Dream? About the guilt you feel? Remember, I can read you like an open book." The tentacles held him down. He struggled, but there was no use. "Try as you might, you cannot change me. This is who I am now. And I am happy to remind you again and again, how everything is all your fault." His grin was mocking, always mocking.

The corners of Dream's mouth turned up to a smile. But there was no mirth. "You're right. It really is all my fault, isn't it?" He paused. "I should really give up, shouldn't I?" He stared sorrowfully. "There is no hope left in you, Nightmare." Before Nightmare could even respond, from Dream came a flash of dazzling light. It left Nightmare frazzled and hissing as he recoiled his tentacles in pain. Dream wasn't on the ground anymore. It seemed like he had made off a distance away.

"Do you really think you can run away?!" He screamed.

"I think you misunderstand, I'm not running away." Dream held a strange crystal-like shard in his hand, an unreadable look on his face. It was something sharp and reflective. "I've been thinking."

"What? What the hell is that? Do you really think something like that can hurt me?" Still, Nightmare was eyeing Dream cautiously. Seemed like he could feel the negativity radiating from it.

"Sometimes, sacrifices have to be made." Dream was holding the the sharp part close to his soul. Too close, almost like he's trying to-

And then he realised. "No. Don't you fucking dare!" Nightmare sprinted into action as quickly as he could. He managed to slap the sharp object off of Dream's hand. The object fell to the ground with a clink. Dream stood his ground and was hardly phased. He stared at his empty hands blankly. "You." Nightmare gritted out. "You, are coming with me." With that, he tightened Dream in a stranglehold with his tentacles and tossed him through a portal.

Dream landed on his face. He didn't bother to move. He didn't quite know where he was. It was dark all over and he could feel the desolation everywhere. But if he were to guess, it was probably a world Nightmare took as his home.

Nightmare wasn't here at the moment. Dream figured he must have went back to fetch his henchmen.

... Dream waited, face still on the ground. He hadn't felt so empty inside before. What happened? Where was the guardian of positivity? Negative thoughts shouldn't be filling his mind so easily. But recently that had been the case. Why did Nightmare have to stop him from ending it all?

A voice sounded behind him. "That's pathetic. You're a pathetic liar, Dream." Oh great it was Nightmare again. Dream grumbled as Nightmare got closer. "Killer, take my stupid brother to the cell."

"Sure thing, boss." Dream felt himself being dragged away. The negativity wasn't doing any favours for him either. And into the cell he goes. "Heh, don't know what you did, but he seems more pissed off than usual."

Dream said nothing. The cell was boring. It was just an empty space with bars, which was within a massive room with metal doors. There was a ragged cloth for what he assumed was for a makeshift bed, and a small window with bars where the moonlight shone in. It was dull. Not that he expected anything else. He was just tired of it all. Funny how his brother never attempted to capture him until now. Who would have thought his cowardly actions would have triggered a reaction. It was so incredibly ironic Dream just wanted to laugh till he died.

Just a few weeks ago he had been feeling similarly down, but managed to gain some motivation when his brother came and bothered him. But he was wrong. That was no brother of his.

Someone that was so utterly selfish, power hungry, he shouldn't care about such a person. Nightmare was the complete opposite of him, they could never get along as they are now. It was never written in the stars.

The past felt like a fever dream, something that wasn't possible, that couldn't have.

He was the only fool here. Tears fell from his eye sockets. Drip, drop. One by one they fell to the floor.

Before he could cry even more, there was the shuffling of feet. He stopped his quiet sobbing as the door creaked open. There Nightmare was, walking closer and closer until he was standing right outside the cell. He really was not in the mood to deal with this. Dream looked away, not willing to face the other.

"What the hell was with that stunt earlier?" Nightmare demanded. "That was the most fucking pitiful thing I've seen from you so far. Do you think that killing yourself would make things better?"

"..."

"Well? I haven't got all day. What. Was. That?" Dream could feel Nightmare lean closer, as his shadow leaned in as well.

"It's what you wanted, right?" He croaked out, still looking away. His pitiful crying never got him anywhere.

"What?"

"It's what you wanted. You wanted me to give up. So I did. Congratulations."

Nightmare seemed to back up away from him. "That's disgusting. Since when did you become such a pushover? I thought you would have grown up by now. Trying to kill me by killing yourself? That is the most cowardly thing I've seen you do."

"Well, if I could end it all just by sacrificing my own life, I think it's a fair trade." He finally turned to face Nightmare directly, eyes hardened.

"Oh Dream... Stop deluding yourself. You aren't doing this for others." A tendril wiped some tears off his face. It was revolting. "Admit it, you're only doing this for yourself."

"N-no... I..."

"Did you really think that ridding the world of all emotions would be a good thing? That's what you were going to do." He deadpanned. "By killing us both, you are only doing everyone a disservice."

Dream trembled under his words. Unable to face Nightmare. His words hurt only because they were true.

"How selfish of you. But you've always been that way. You've always fucking cared more about those shitty villagers rather than your own brother." Dream said nothing, too busy sobbing now, tears falling uncontrollably.

"Now don't go pulling that stunt again." Nightmare said coldly as he left and shut the door behind him. It was so dark, and cold.

He's constantly reminded of how he messes everything up, yet can't do anything to make it better. He felt so useless. If only he wasn't burdened by his nature, if only he was just a regular monster.

The tears wouldn't stop, and in the empty cell room behind the bars, his crying echoed loudly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted this on Wattpad originally, now it's here too.


	2. Passing Time

The next time the door opened, some food was shoved in. The food looked like shoddy work. The pieces of bread were misaligned, and a thin slab of meat smack in the middle, likely raw. He visibly blanched, and wondered why anyone would eat something like that.

It wasn't like he actually needed to eat. At least for a while. He pushed the food away to the furthest corner of the space, and left it as that.

He didn't know how much time had passed since Nightmare had came, but he guessed it had to have been at least a few hours because he had cried himself to sleep.

He's all by himself here. He would need some positive emotions to actually use his powers to break free of this place. But it was difficult. The bars were made of something that radiated negativity, similar to what he had been holding previously. Moreover, he wasn't feeling too great himself, and wondered if he should even try.

* * *

Different monsters came to give him food each time, as if they were taking turns. Dream usually only ate the fruits or bread. He was too suspicious of the meat.

None of them really engaged him in any conversation though. And this was how Dream came to know what absolute boredom is. Every time they came by to give the food, they just stared at him like he was some exotic animal in a cage. This only irritated Dream to no end. How long was his brother going to keep him in here?

It was like he was already dead, just letting the days pass by. If this was how he was kept alive, could it really be called living?

However, his existence was crucial for the feelings of the entire multiverse, and that was the only thing keeping him going. In a sense, his brother did smack some sense into him. Just having some time alone and doing some self reflection helped. How could he have been so selfish?

With nothing better to do, he found himself observing his visitors. Horror looked ready to devour the food he was holding every single time. It was very telling from how he would visibly salivate. Sometimes Dream would see bites in his food, and it was no question to him how that happened.

Dust seemed to be the least interested in him, usually just silently putting the food down and leaving. Dream appreciated that, as opposed to how Killer seemed to find amusement in scaring him, or at least drawing a reaction out of him.

Killer would lean close to the cell, just staring at him, unmoving. The lack of eye lights was not helping at all. And adding onto the creepiness factor was the black sludge that seemed to ooze out of his eyesockets. Nope, Dream definitely did not flinch when the other suddenly moved to leave.

Dream wished Nightmare would just come talk to him already. It wasn't like he could keep Dream here forever.

* * *

Should he really be shocked when he started hacking, coughing and puking out some black tar? He glanced at it from the corner of his eyes, the floor now stained. He must really be getting sick from the food. It disturbed him a little, and he used the rag to cover it from his view. Unfortunately, the rag only absorbed the substance, staining it a dirty black.

* * *

"I've noticed you never touch the meat…" Horror stood there as usual, curiosity in his eyes, grin ever present. "Even though they've been cooked for awhile now."

"I don't trust it." Dream simply said, not moving from his spot or looking at Horror.

Horror shifted a bit. "Oh? Afraid of what it's from?"

"…"

Then, Dream could hear some chewing noises. "Well, if you're not gonna have it, that's more for me. Seeing how it's been left to waste really hurts my soul, ya hear?"

"Okay." Dream couldn't really care less. "When is Nightmare going to come see me? He can't just shut me here and then leave me hanging!"

Horror shrugged, "Heh, hell if I know." and then left. Well he didn't answer the question. At least Dream felt a little better talking to someone other than himself for once.

What if he were to be trapped here forever? Would anyone come to get him? Dream was starting to get depressing thoughts again. This environment was bad for him.

…

At least he had his cape. It was comforting. Dream hugged it as he slept.

He rolled around in his sleep. The storm was closing in, and it was wet everywhere.

He was soaked thoroughly and cold, but it wasn't what scared him. It was the sudden flashes that would make him flinch, the crackling of thunder that made him want to hide. But under the tree was not the best place to be. He was so scared.

He shivered, but there was no comfort. He was alone. He would have to wait for the storm to pass.

Suddenly, a cloth was draped over him. The cloth was yellow and decorated with an orange sun. It was familiar. "… Don't be afraid of the thunder, this cape will protect you from everything."

He feels like he's heard this before. But who was it from again? He shivered again.

"Shh… it's okay…" Dream feels a comforting hand on his skull, and he calms down.

…

Dream opened his eyes. "Nightmare?"

But he could only see the darkness of the cell, and the occasional flash of lightning from the small window he had. Dream sat up, and the cape fell off of him. The air felt disturbed. He could hear the sound of distant thunder, to which he frowned and put the cape back over his head.

It was a nice dream.

* * *

Killer came in playing with a knife in one hand and fruits in the other. That skeleton was still the creepiest of them all with his looks. Dripping darkness from his hollow eyesockets? No thank you.

Maybe he was just biased towards Nightmare. He could see why others would think Nightmare would be at the top of the 'Absolutely Not' list. But he knew Nightmare before the corruption so that gave him extra points in Dream's book.

"Now that I've taken a closer look at you… I can see why you might be considered brothers." Killer said off-handedly as he laid down the plate. "Though… I think you look more similar to that small blue skeleton. How curious." He spun knife around on his fingertips.

"Uh… okay?" Dream wasn't sure what to say to that comment about his appearance. "When can I get out?"

At that comment, Killer stopped playing with his knife. "You leave when you leave." And then he left.

Dream sighed. He looked at the food on the plate and deflated. It was an apple today.

* * *

The coughing never really did get better. He was good at hiding it, though. He would hold it in and wait for any outside noise and monsters to be gone before making any sound. It was only the occasional clearing of his throat, and then everything would be fine. It didn't get better, but nothing worse.

His gloves would be filthy with the black tar, and he didn't want to wear them anymore.

* * *

There was no progress for Dust either.

"Stop talking or I'll have to kill you for some LV." He would say, and then leave as expected.

Dream crossed his arms and pouted, salty he was the only one who couldn't get out.

He was dying of boredom. Based on how Nightmare had been acting, he obviously wasn't going to kill him, but Dream was sure he was going to die of doing absolutely nothing!

He stared blankly at the wall, waiting for the seconds to tick by. Nothing happened. That's all he experienced since he got here. He has nothing with him, and could only play with his cape, which was ridiculous.

He had always been very active, restless, duty never ending. And then now all of a sudden he's trapped here, and it only made him fidgety. Just another day of pacing around the cell.


	3. Reprieve

"Oh thank _stars_ you're finally here." Dream exclaimed when he saw Nightmare coming through the door. Finally.

"Ugh, I hate keeping you here." Nightmare said, rubbing his brow. "I can't even kill you. That's the worst part."

"Then let me leave! This place is the absolute worst! You don't let me move around." Dream whined.

"You're a prisoner. What else did you expect? Besides, I cannot afford to have you killing yourself again, so you have to stay here."

"But brother! I'm not going to kill myself anymore!" Dream tried to explain, hands tight on the bars.

"How can I be sure of that? After that thing you pulled I think I might have to keep you here forever if I don't want to suddenly die in my sleep."

"You can know I'm genuine if you actually read my emotions!"

"…"

"I'm dying, brother! Dying of boredom!!" He said dramatically. "I don't think you understand how bad it is to do absolutely nothing, for this long!" Dream shook the bars and they rattled slightly. "I just sit here, stare at the ceiling and walls, all day!"

"Stars, Dream you're so whiny!" Nightmare facepalmed, dragging his hands over his face in exasperation.

"You would be too if you had to sit in a cell and talk to yourself all day." Dream huffed, speaking softer this time. Then he continued, as Nightmare stared at him waiting for more. "I… did some reflection. You're right, …it was selfish of me to not consider the entire multiverse." He did think about it, but at that point he hadn't cared anymore. "I know I shouldn't just give up like that…"

At that, Nightmare seemed to relax. "Fine, I'll let you out for now. But NOT without supervision. And NO weapons for you."

"Yay!!" He jumped.

"Don't get so excited. I'm still not letting you leave this world. So don't try anything funny."

"Okay!"

"Ugh." Nightmare moved to open the cell. Dream walked out, very excited.

"How do you live in such a place? It's so dark all the time." Dream commented as he followed Nightmare outside. He walked through a long corridor dimly lit by lights.

"You are extremely noisy."

"I'm bored."

"Well shut up. I think I've heard enough of your voice for today." Nightmare huffed.

"That's rude-"

"Shut!" Dream visibly deflated. He probably shouldn't encourage tension in a situation like this. But it was his obligation as a brother to annoy Nightmare so Dream was really struggling in that aspect to shut up.

So his mouth was itching to say something, even if it meant going back behind the bars.

So Dream walked through a series of corridors, which he was sure to get lost in without a guide. Doors upon doors. What were in them?

Everything was dark, and it wasn't very pleasant to look at. It was mostly because he could barely see anything.

Finally, they reached a suitably cosy looking room. Even though it was positively the biggest room of them all. There was a nice fireplace and sofas were gathered around it. There was a television situated near it as well.

There were also stairs on both sides that lead to a small area you could call the second floor, and on it sat a throne, with some books on it. Someone's been living the life.

"Okay, this is the main living area. Don't. Wander off. Don't. I'm going to leave because I'm having a headache right now from talking to you." Nightmare said as he rubbed his brows. "Killer here will watch you."

And as if he was summoned from the shadows, Killer emerged from behind Dream. "Boo!" His hands were raised up in an attempt to be more intimidating.

Well it worked. "W-WHA-" Dream stumbled forwards, almost falling onto the ground. He would have if Nightmare didn't wrap him up in his tentacles again which greatly displeased Dream.

"Don't grab me so suddenly!" Dream complained. Nightmare released Dream, along with a scowl.

"A thank you would have been nice, Dream." Nightmare said, but didn't pursue the matter even when Dream didn't respond. Getting grabbed by those wasn't pleasant in the least, considering how many times he had gotten choked by them before. "Whatever. I'm leaving. And Killer? Don't kill him."

And there he goes… leaving Dream with a psychopath.

"Hey, nice place, isn't it?" Dream didn't know why Killer was attempting small talk but it could help relieve the tension a little. But he was also sure that if his brother hadn't said anything, the knife he was playing with at the moment would be up in his throat. Those were some pretty negative thoughts he was having. He really should be more optimistic. He managed to leave the cell. "Hello? You there?" Killer waved his hands in front of Dream who was staring intensely at nothing.

"Oh! Uh, just… thinking. Sorry. What were you saying?" Dream apologised.

"... ah nevermind." Hm. Seems like he had made it awkward. This wasn't helping his nerves. Killer proceeded anyways, "So, what's first-"

But then clanking sounds and noises could be heard from somewhere. It was loud, and it sounded like a fight because he could also hear voices.

"Oh God damn it, this again." Killer sighed, walking off towards the noise. Dream followed meekly behind.

"You've got to know when to feed the beast! This beast here is famished, and I need that meat!" Dream could hear from the distance.

"No you don't. There's a reason why we ration things! We don't have unlimited food!" There was the sound of clashing weapons, probably.

"Food is for eating. Give it here!" A loud thud. Horror had fallen in his attempts to reach the red meat, with Dust dodging effectively.

"No."

"Guys, stop it! Boss has a headache, he's gonna come for our asses if you both don't shut up!" All the while Dream was just watching. So much negative emotions, he could throw up. That was the problem with powers like his. He could feel the emotions of others almost like his own. Now it was bloodlust, anger, and a lot of annoyance, and he was starting to develop a headache himself. His throat felt itchy.

The two seemed to have stopped fighting after the mention of Nightmare but tension was still high. Using this moment of distraction as everybody stared at each other, Horror leaped into action and snagged the meat from the hands of Dust as he could only stare in shock. The meat was already gone, into Horror's non existent stomach.

"I am locking the fridge. I have let this happen enough times. Never again." Dust growled.

"You wouldn't dare!"

"You can't stop me."

Dream was feeling quite dizzy, too many strong negative emotions… he tried to grab a hold of something to support himself. And unfortunately Killer was the closest thing. Which resulted in him pulling on Killer's jacket and notified Killer of his predicament.

Dream seemed to realise his mistake, and moved away immediately. But because of this, his legs gave in and he fell down to the floor. "Ow…"

"Oh shit." Killer said as he reached out to help Dream up. Dream seemed hesitant, but took his hand anyways. Having gained stability, he took a look at the arguing two, who weren't arguing anymore but instead looking at him.

"Uh… hi?" He mumbled as the two stared at him. His brother did tell Killer not to kill him, but he didn't know about those two. And no killing didn't exactly mean no torturing.

"What the fuck is he doing out here?"

"Nightmare let him out." Killer simply said.

"What?" Dust could only say, incredulous.

"Aw, he looks nervous." Horror said, with a grin wide and unsettling as he walked over to Dream with his axe. "How about we have some fun?" Dream backed off a little, eye lights trained on the giant axe the other was holding. He glared at Horror, arms ready to get his bow, only to remember he didn't have it. From the peripherals of his vision he could see a glistening metal object laying innocently on the table. He swiped it up and pointed it as threateningly as he could at Horror. This only made Horror's smirk grow. Great. He was surrounded by bloodthirsty skeletons.

He almost wanted to go back into the cell. Almost. And with this he already broke the no weapons rule.

"Killer… why did you leave your knives around? Look at what's happening now." Dust sighed.

"Whoops." Killer said, shrugging and not sounding worried at all. "It's true Nightmare said not to kill him but…" he trailed off, looking at Dust with one eyesocket.

"That doesn't mean we can't rough him up a little." Dust smirked.

"Now you get it." Killer then turned to Horror, who was already lunging at Dream. Just don't kill him, Horror. Boss won't like it."

Horror was swinging his axe around, but due to the nature of the weapon, Dream was easily able to dodge all of the attacks. The axe was short ranged, and the swinging took a while to complete, making the attacks slow. But he could also see that Horror had a lot of strength, and each swing was a little faster than what one might usually expect. But Dream was used to dodging, and all those years in age he had over many other monsters had come in handy.

A swing came down, but it was sidestepped by Dream, axe embedding into the floor instead. Horror brought it up easily, floor cracking even more from the removal of the weapon. This was already the tenth time or so, the surroundings probably wrecked.

He was surprised Nightmare wasn't already here screaming at everybody to shut up, considering how worried Killer was earlier when the other two were fighting. After a while, Horror's attacks were becoming predictable to Dream, and his attacks were slowing. He must be getting tired. Dust and Killer were just watching, and they seem amused.

Thank goodness he didn't have to fight all of them at once. All this time Dream wasn't able to use the knife in his hands at all, completely focused on dodging and the occasional blocking. But now that Horror's movements have slowed… Dream took his chance as Horror was still mid-swing, and slashed at him, tearing a part of his jacket. It didn't even scrape him though.

"Oh." Horror stopped attacking and looked down, "Okay, ya got me." Not too bothered that his clothing had been ripped.

Dream was standing a distance away, knife still ready on his hands, still on guard but also looking exhausted.

"Huff…okay, I'm beat. Gonna rest a bit." Horror said as he stumbled over to the now broken couch and instantly knocked out.

Dream himself was also looking worse for the wear, having actually managed to dodge and block all the attacks. He dropped onto the floor and fell asleep.

"Well that just happened." Killer said as the two people not asleep stared at the mess. "The furniture, and everything… boss isn't gonna like this."

"Wow, Horror couldn't even touch him. I wanted to have a go at him myself."

"Damn. Watching them fight 's got me excited. Since everything here is destroyed anyways, why don't we spar as well? " Killer grinned, and Dust returned with a smirk.

"Why the hell not."


	4. Cleaning

And so Nightmare walked into the main room with sleep still heavy in his eyesocket, only for it to snap wide open at the mess he saw before him. The entire room was completely wrecked, not even the television was spared.

The perpetrators were laying innocently on the ground, skeletons sleeping like the dead. Oh hell no.

"YOU IDIOTS, WAKE UP!" He screamed, voice echoing through the walls.

But nobody responded as they all continued sleeping like logs. He noticed Dream was with the rest of them on the ground as well. Nightmare quickly made his steps to him, checking for any injuries. Well he wasn't dead so Dream couldn't be dead. But he was surprisingly unharmed as well.

He breathed out a sigh of relief that nobody could witness. The mess single-handedly revived his headache. And he was absolutely going to make them clean up everything.

Yes, the entire castle, all of them. That'd teach them a thing or two about fighting in the main hall.

But he'll let them rest… for now.

* * *

"… and that's how we ended up with cleaning duty." Killer explained.

"We fucking got it, we were literally there." Dust grumbled. The rest were looking incredibly bored as well.

Dream had healed Killer and Dust who had actually managed to land hits on each other, and thankfully no one died. So now they were probably rejuvenated enough to do work.

"I'm just making sure we are all on the same page that we're sharing the blame here. Better not slack off." Killer said, pointing at everyone but himself.

Dream sighed, looking around. "This is going to take forever!"

"Yes, it is going to take forever if you all just stand around! Get to it!" Nightmare screamed.

All four of them quickly grabbed their cleaning equipment and scrambled out of Nightmare's sight.

Dream quickly found himself a water source and started taking off his gloves and washing them. It had been what he was meaning to do all along, but the chance only presented itself now. But the black stain wasn't coming off. He scrubbed it the best he could, and it wasn't very satisfactory, but it would have to do. He slipped them back on before getting back to his duty.

It wasn't fair, Horror was the one who engaged the fight, why was he to blame too? He was only trying to not get killed. Dream sulked as he thought about it. Apparently Killer and Dust were also to blame, based on his brother's 'brilliant' deductive skills. But it could be worse, and this wasn't so bad. He had an excuse to wander anywhere now.

Or not.

Killer probably still had the duty to watch him. He could see Killer within the peripherals of his vision. Dream grabbed his broom and began sweeping. He seemed to be in one of the unoccupied rooms, that only made it awfully dusty though. This must be the first time the room has been cleaned in years! Every sweep brought up a dust storm, and it made Dream cough a lot.

"Do you guys have masks? I think this dust isn't too healthy…" he turned to ask Killer who was sweeping outside the room, at the corridors.

"Nah, we don't have a need for those here." He said, even though he was also coughing from the dust. "We never did cleaning so intensively before."

And Dream knew that to be a definite truth, as more dust flew into his eyesockets.

After a few hours of cleaning, coughing and hacking, the room finally looked decent. The windows have been wiped clean and bed sheets have been tossed aside.

"Where did you even get these furniture? So old and unused…" Dream asked Killer, who had joined in cleaning the room some point in time, and helped wipe the cabinets.

"We stole it, obviously." Killer replied, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Dream facepalmed. "You know what, I don't know why I even asked." Dream went over and grabbed the bed sheets, and motioned to the rest of the things that needed to be thrown away. "So what do you do with the things you don't need?"

"We throw it away?" He said, staring at Dream like he'd asked a stupid question.

Dream wanted to roll his eyelights. Instead he just asked, "I know, but where?"

"Just take it outside." Killer demonstrated by taking the dusty curtain and heading outside. Dream stared before following, holding the dirty bed sheets.

He made it just in time to see Horror and Dust lifting the broken couch in the living room. They were heading for the door. Guess Killer meant literally outside the castle.

The outside sky was a stark purple, clouds blocking even the moon of the eternal night.

"So now that we have all the trash here, what do we do? Is this the dumpster?" Dream asked. The unwanted items were all piled up in a heap, away from the castle.

"We burn it, of course!" Horror said excitedly.

"Burn it?!" Dream exclaimed. Horror nodded.

"Of course, yer know how trash goes into the incinerator? It's the same, but better." Dust was already pouring a bottle of kerosene onto the items, while Killer was lighting up a matchstick. "You can just watch if ya want."

"But what about safe-" before Dream could finish, the fire was already blaring, flames licking into the skies. "Safety." He completed the last word uselessly.

"Next item please." Killer announced. Dust pushed the couch to him and Horror poured some more kerosene. Dream sighed. At that point, even if they pulled out a flamethrower and ravaged the entire forest with fire, it would not be shocking at all.

"Okay, I'll leave that to you guys then." Dream said as he dragged himself back to the castle. He should really just leave this entire world. But his brother was being somewhat decent, so perhaps it was worth trying to talk to him instead of breaking his trust.

But why did he have to go through this? He was exhausted already.

He pushed opened the doors to the castle, which had been ridiculously huge, and unnecessary. He opened up to see Nightmare sitting on the throne, which was also very extra, simply reading. He had always liked reading. And of course his throne was on the second floor so he could look down on anyone that talks to him.

He set aside his book for a moment, sparing a glance at Dream. "You've only cleaned one room. We have hundreds."

"What? Did you let me out just so that I can be your cleaning maid?" Dream scowled.

Nightmare grinned. "No, I just think your suffering is hilarious. And you destroyed my living room. I think it's the least you can do."

Dream clenched his fists, his head facing down. This was nothing. He then lifted it up with the most pleasant face he could muster. His hands joined together in a clap, and he laughed. "Oh, yes of course! Because everything is my fault!"

Nightmare's grin fell. "Gross, stop doing that. Your face looks like it's going to split in half." He scoffed, turning back to his book.

Dream's facade dropped. "Well you're just a huge lazy ass aren't you?! I only ever see you sleeping or sitting on that stupid throne, while everyone else is working! Why not you get down and-"

Nightmare slammed the book down on his lap, making a loud sound that shut Dream up. "Oh my God, Dream it's just a joke, calm down."

"Since when have you been the purveyor of jokes?" Dream deadpanned, and then exploded. "You've trapped me in here for God knows how long, then let Horror and the rest take a swing at me, and now I'm cleaning everything?! That's it, I'm gone." Dream practically ripped open the doors, and slammed them back after he left.

Only silence behind him. Nightmare didn't even bother giving chase. Good, he didn't know if he could handle more right now. And the coughing was back, more violent than it ever had been, and black tar soon joined the floor. Now with this he can be accused of vandalism to the floor, just like Ink.

He wiped all that he could off of his mouth and stomped away into the forest area. He stepped through the foliage, pushing away the branches that were in his path.

Once he was far enough within the trees, Dream tried to gather positive energy. It wasn't working though. It had been happening for a while now, and Dream didn't know what was wrong. This world wasn't particularly close to the most negative one, even though Nightmare resided here.

Dream simply… couldn't leave. His powers felt weaker than they ever have, and it was concerning. And he sure as hell wasn't going to go back right after screaming at Nightmare.

But he couldn't stay there forever either, so it was going to be a problem. He heaved a sigh, choosing one of the trees to climb instead. He needed some rest time, alone.

He searched for a particularly broad and comfortable branch before leaning against it and draping his cape over himself like a blanket.

It was time for a well deserved nap.

A strong breeze rushed against the tree, but the branches were steady. His cape was perfect for keeping him suitably snug. He adjusted it so that he was better protected from the wind.

He was so exhausted today. The villagers were always a handful.

Suddenly, Nightmare was calling for him. It was strange, because Nightmare usually let him rest, knowing how tired he would get. In his dazed state, he could only make out a few words. "Hey" and more notably, his name. He wanted to sleep more, but Nightmare must have something important to tell him if he was waking him.

There was snapping of fingers. "Oi, wake up." Dream opened his eyes, only to realise it had been Killer that had been calling to him.

Dream grumbled, slightly annoyed that he had been woken up from his rest. He stared down at Killer, rubbing his tired eye sockets. "Did Nightmare send you?"

"I was going to chop down this tree, but lucky you, huh?" Killer grinned, knife in hand. "And yes, Nightmare wants to see you. Now."

Dream grimaced, crossing his arms and staying put on the branch. "Tell him I don't want to see him. If it really were that important, he would come see me himself."

"Well, no excuses then." A thump, and a shake. Killer was hacking at the tree with his knife, very quickly and with considerable force as well. Dream held onto the tree to keep himself from falling.

"H-hey, what are you doing?!"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm getting you down." And he continued chipping away at the wood while Dream continued to hold on.

"You-" he coughed before he was able to stop himself, loud and uncomfortable. The tar like substance splattered onto the ground in front of Killer.

"Gross." Killer stopped chopping. But then Dream realised it was only because his blade had become chipped, as he tossed it onto the ground. From his sleeve he retrieved another knife, and was ready to start chopping again until-

"Wait!" The knife was stopped mid-swing. "F-fine. Just stop, I'll come down."

"Ok." He said, but then swung at the tree a few more times before stopping.

This only caused Dream to cling tighter to the tree, but with more than half of the trunk cut and an added weight to a side, there could only have been one result. The tree snapped, and fell. The trees to it's side could only slow it down.

Dream screamed as he fell, and with the little magic he could gather, he teleported right as he was about to be crushed. He felt drained. He'd never felt this bad before. He did however, use the little energy he had left to glare at Killer, before he dropped to the floor and fainted.


	5. Suitably Mad, Reasonably Angry

Dream grumbled as he felt the grogginess of sleep leave him.

"You're up."

"Ughh," was Dream's only response, covering his eyes, as if doing so would make Nightmare disappear. It didn't work.

"What the fuck have you been up to?" Nightmare demanded. "And don't play dumb with me either." Nightmare held up the crystal shard that had belonged to Dream.

"That's none of your business." Dream said, peeking through his fingers, seeing the shard. It was the one he tried to end himself with. Nightmare must have picked it up after the battle, how embarrassing...

Nightmare held the crystal loosely in his hand. "It very well is my business, Dream. Because I know where you've taken this from." His hand tightened around it and then crushed it. The crystal dust fell to pieces and onto the floor. "It's from a particular pacifist timeline, but has now long been barren, isn't it?"

Dream sat up in shock. "How-"

"I'll throw the question back to you, Dream. How do you think those crystals formed? Surely land filled with such solid negativity couldn't have formed naturally."

"You don't mean-"

"You know exactly what I mean." Nightmare cut in.

"But... why would you do that?"

"... who knows?" There was a pause. Nightmare looked on forlornly into the distance. But that expression was quickly replaced with annoyance. "It's been too long. Who would have thought you would find it, and be foolish enough to extract some samples..."

Dream's throat itched again, cough threatening to spill. But he held it back best he could, placing his palm over his mouth to prevent any accidents. He couldn't let Nightmare find out how weak he was feeling, but he feared Nightmare had already begun to suspect.

"Well? Fess up, what were you doing there?" Nightmare pushed, eyeing Dream's behaviour.

"You don't need to know." Dream said, fingers closing over his eyes again.

Nightmare grabbed Dream by the front of his cape, lifting him up by it. His arms fall off his face. "Tell me, or else-"

"Or else what? You'll kill me?" Dream laughed. Nightmare didn't. He heaved a sigh, resigned. "I really don't understand why you care so much about my business. Just leave me alone."

"Tch." Nightmare released his hold on Dream. "You-" Suddenly, Dream coughed violently, not being able to stop it. He reflexively covered his mouth with his hands, wiped off any remains on his mouth and then quickly hid them behind his back.

Dream didn't speak, looking at Nightmare like a deer caught in headlights, hoping Nightmare wouldn't point it out either. Unfortunately, he had to face reality.

"You're hiding it." Nightmare frowned. "But it's more serious than you thought... is that right?"

Dream nodded slowly. He didn't think he could hide it any longer, it was in plain sight. He let Nightmare see his gloves.

It wasn't like Dream was completely ignorant to the idea of him... getting corrupted. The suspicious black matter eerily similar to Nightmare's, and his general mood in recent times. It all added up. Perhaps he had known all along.

But he didn't understand why it was happening, and so chose to pretend it wasn't. He had hoped that if he turned the other way, it would stop. But of course it didn't, which was what had led to this. Now he was here clueless along with everyone else as to how and what was going to happen to him.

Nightmare grimaced as he saw the sludge. "... So it's true." Then he looked angry, possibly panicked. Nightmare was angry a lot, but this time it felt different. "What the hell did you do?!"

Dream waved his hands in front of him wildly in defense, "I really didn't do anything!" then spoke more timidly, "I just... found that ruined world, and took a crystal. That's it."

"Why the fuck do you touch weird things! And keep them, no less!" Nightmare accused. "How the hell did- what, why did this..." Nightmare must really be panicking now, and to Dream it was the most appalling sight ever.

So appalling, that Dream couldn't stop the sound that slipped his mouth. He started to giggle.

"This is funny to you? You infuriate me, you know that? You're literally dying, and here you are, laughing! Do you laugh at everything?!"

Dream only laughed harder.

"WHAT'S SO FUNNY?" Nightmare screamed, lunging at Dream, trying to stop his laughter. He smacked onto Dream, causing them to both fall to the ground.

"Don't you hear yourself, Nightmare?" Dream spoke between his gasps. "You sound like you're worried about me."

Nightmare sputtered in indignation, spewing words of denial, but it only dug him deeper. "NO! I simply don't want to die with you! I die when you die, remember?! I have some sense of self-preservation, unlike you!"

"The balance... it's important isn't it?" Dream said softly as he wiped the tears from laughing too much. "Do you really think that if we died... all emotions would cease? It's hard for me to think about."

Nightmare didn't manage to get a word in before they heard three knocks on the door. It opened, revealing Dust, Horror and Killer. They must have satisfied their pyromaniac tendencies.

"We heard shouting."

In silence they stared at the brothers looking like they've been wrestling on the ground. And then Killer spoke. "You've finally decided to kill him?"

Nightmare propped himself up with his tentacles. "No. We have a problem," he stood solemnly, adding, "and I have a monster to kidnap."

The three henchmen looked with interest, brows raising. While Dream stared with shock. "Kidnap? What's this about kidnapping?"

Nightmare rolled his eyelight. "We have to find out what's wrong with you."

"But why kidnapping?!"

"How else would I get them to help _me_?"

"Oh, right." Dream conceded, a bit embarrassed. Nightmare wasn't very well liked, not at all. He asked timidly. "Who... are you going to kidnap?"

"Someone proficient in the workings of the world. A science Sans, was it? I heard one of them is familiar with the multiverses."

"Sci?!"

"Yes, I need to get going now. Everyone else can stay here. Get some rest, or whatever." He waved them off absent-mindedly. Killer looked visibly disappointed, while Dust was already walking away.

"Wait! Let me come!" Dream tugged at Nightmare's jacket cuffs.

"Why?"

"I know Sci so you don't have to kidnap him! I can just talk to him! And also I... might have given him a sample of the shard before all this." Dream spoke the last part very quickly.

Nightmare narrowed his eye at Dream. "Know that I'm not letting you out of my sight. Let's go."

Dream was ecstatic. He didn't know if he could stand another day of this dark world. What if he was only sick because of this extended stay? If so then he would much feel better when he finally leaves this universe...


	6. That Darned Crystal

Nightmare sunk into the floor, pulling along a shocked Dream along into the sludge. It wasn't that Dream hadn't seen him do it before, but rather, he was not expecting to ever experience it. The trip through the negativity made Dream feel queasy.

They find themselves on a nicely tiled floor, shiny and pristine. This was definitely Sci's laboratory, and he was busy in the corner, not noticing the new arrivals. Unfortunately, Dream couldn't stop the tar that expelled from his mouth, onto the now sullied floor. Nightmare was also making the floor dirty just by standing there, so it had been an unavoidable consequence.

But that wasn't what was important right now. "I'm so sorry about the floor, Sci! But I need your help." Dream shouted to Sci, jogging over to where he stood. Nightmare didn't move from his spot.

Sci spoke while still examining the papers in his hands, "Yes, that's what you all say-" before he turned and spotted Nightmare in the distance, becoming panicked. "W-what's Nightmare doing here?!"

"D-don't worry! He's not going to kill anyone!" Dream reassured, turning back to Nightmare for confirmation. "Right?"

Nightmare didn't say a word. He held his hands behind his back, giving a smirk that could only be described as devious.

"Nightmare!"

"Yeah, yeah. Sure." He said nonchalantly.

Dream decided that was the best he was going to get, so he turned back to Sci, who wasn't looking assured at all. Dream didn't really think Nightmare would do anything, not as long as he needed the other. He was just having fun with his scares.

"A-as long as he doesn't come any closer, alright?" Sci re-adjusted his glasses, taking a quick glance at Nightmare who indeed didn't move from his spot. "So what did you need me for?"

"Remember that purple shard I gave you? The one I wanted you to find out more about."

"That crystal? From around two months ago?" He waved his hands in the air. "It seems to be solidified negativity, it's rather potent, in fact. I have been curious as to where you've gotten it from."

Around two months ago? Nightmare had been keeping him for at least a month?? He wanted to get angry, but it was too late to be frustrated now. He needed to focus on the task at hand. "Nightmare said he made it."

"How? I've never seen emotions become crystallised before. Didn't think it was possible."

"I don't know."

"Can you ask him?"

Dream nodded, shouting across the room. "Nightmare! How did you make those crystals?"

He didn't seem very pleased. "Why would you need to know? Is it necessary?"

Dream turned back to Sci, who nodded. But with the way his eyes sparkled and the surge of curiosity, it seemed to be more of personal satisfaction than actual need. Dream allowed it, telling Nightmare that yes, they absolutely needed to know.

"Well fuck you, I'm not telling." Nightmare crossed his arms, facing away from Dream.

"Please!" He begged. "Please, Nighty?"

"Don't call me that! I don't understand how they formed either! It was an anomaly that only happened there."

"Very interesting." Was the only input Sci gave as he listened. "However, that can't be the only thing that brought you here, is that right?" He said, glancing at Nightmare before making eye contact with Dream. Dream didn't really want to admit there was something wrong with him. But that was what he was here for…

Noticing Dream's hesitation, Nightmare spoke up instead. "Yes, there's something wrong with him, and he might be dying. He's been throwing up black matter. Similar to what you see on myself."

"I see." Sci seemed to consider, "To be frank, I've always been curious about the sludge that flowed from you. May I have a sample?" Nightmare didn't look like he wanted to, but he took a look at Dream and decided.

He used a tentacle and slid it over the tiles, staining them. "Here." It was right next to where Dream had puked. "Now you have both samples, so you better do good on your research." He hissed.

"T-the thing is, Nightmare wasn't always like that, he wasn't always covered in this sludge." Dream spoke softly, looking guilty. "This corruption-"

Nightmare slapped a tentacle over Dream's mouth. "Shut up. That is not something he needs to know."

"But the more information he has the better chance we have with figuring this out, and fixing this!"

"There. Was. No. Need. To. Bring. That. Up." He growled, tentacles curling around Dream's neck, tightening. Dream struggled, fingers clawing at the sludge, trying to loosen the hold.

"S-sorry to interrupt, but! F-from what I am getting, this sludge is a a side effect of a certain corruption? And you suspect that crystal has something to do with Dream's ailment?" Sci'd glasses were falling from how sweaty he was getting. "But I'm sure you didn't come here to find out how this happened. You want to know how to undo it, right?" He pushed his glasses back up.

Nightmare tossed Dream to the side, sending him flying to the floor. He towered over the trembling Sci, "If you weren't so useful, you'd already be dead. We're not here to play around. Do you know anything about how to reverse it?"

"I will n-need some time to examine the samples, and figure out the root of the problem."

"Whatever. We will be back. You better have some answers ready, or else." He strode over to where Dream was, grabbing at his cape and pulling him along.

"I'm so sorry!!" Dream apologised, before he was dragged away in the sludge again. Sci didn't deserve this.

Dream coughed again, as he emerged on the other side. This time, he could feel something dripping from his eye sockets as well. He quickly wiped it off with his gloves, those of which were no longer bright yellow. It was the true victim here, forever stained in black.

He was back in Nightmare's home universe. The purple skies ever looming and foreboding.

"Things of the past should stay in the past. Don't go speaking of useless things, Dream." His voice was level, but there was a certain tenseness. "I'm only helping you because I don't want to die."

He knew that Nightmare wouldn't be pleased with him, but it was important that Sci knew about the sludge not being the natural way negativity was supposed to manifest. It would definitely help in figuring out the mess.

He was dying for all he knew. Who knew how the corruption would affect him, a positive being?

Dream didn't give a reply.

* * *

It had been a full day since visiting Sci.

He didn't want to further perpetuate any tension, so he hadn't spoken with Nightmare about his worries. They haven't said a word to each other ever since after Nightmare told him not to bring up the past.

His condition had gotten much worse over this single day. His leaky eye sockets were comparable to Killer's, and he wasn't sure how to feel about that. He furiously wiped off another wave of liquid rolling down his cheekbones.

Truthfully, he was afraid. That month ago, he had been so willing to give it all up, to reduce to nothing. But now when confronted with the chance again, he had become such a coward.

With how he managed to earn himself looks of pity from the bad Sanses, it only showed how deep of a pit he was in.


	7. A Different Kind of Insanity

They were curious, the lot of them.

Dream figured that Nightmare had never told anyone about his past, with how defensive he had been about it.

Dream never did before, either. A secret kept like a precious jewel, something to bring to the grave.

So they must have been shocked when they found out Dream was now dripping negativity. They probably thought Nightmare had always been that way, and Dream was simply his opposite. So much so that one or the other would be impossible.

If only they knew.

He would get not-so subtle stares, or they would be blatantly observing, eyelights set on him. They weren't bothering him, other than making him a little uncomfortable, so he let them be.

There was a call for restocking of supplies, Nightmare summoned the three misfits, and there was a discussion. He knew what it meant, Nightmare was going to plunder supplies from whichever unfortunate world.

Dream wasn't included of course, and he didn't even know what he was doing there anymore. He would try to stop Nightmare, but he didn't think he would be able to. And thinking about it now, would stopping Nightmare from getting food only be choosing one over the other? It wasn't like Nightmare could ask nicely... nor did he have a proper job... and nobody could go without food.

Who was he to decide who lived or died...?

It was impossible to leave this world on his own, so he was stuck here. He would ask to be able to leave, but Nightmare hadn't seemed willing to talk, and had often been away.

Any conversations with anyone else were few and far between as well.

He had received his own room, the guest room he had cleaned on the first day of his release. A simple room with a single bed was all he needed. He spent the most of his time in there, and if he weren't, he would be out cleaning. Cleaning up more places, and his own messes, that is, the sludge issue. It was quite viscous, so it didn't drip too much, instead it mostly stuck to him. The real issue was his puking, and it was horrid.

Yet another inconvenience to put on a list. It was already enough that he would be bathed in the sludge everytime he awoke. There was nothing redeeming about being this sick. It was possibly the most uncomfortable thing, and he didn't know how Nightmare dealt with it daily. At this point his clothes were just as black as Nightmare's and there was only disappointment left in him to give. Endless scrubbing did nothing, as his gloves had proved.

He had to remove his cape entirely to prevent it from becoming another casualty. He hadn't wanted to, but it was for the best. It had been tucked nicely under his pillow, and he couldn't help but raise the pillow to look at it again. Good. Nice and yellow.

The sound of the voices outside the door finally died down, leaving the silence behind. Did they leave him alone at last? He decided to wait for a prolonged silence before making any moves.

Dream peeked through the small opening of the door, before pulling it open wider. He stepped out, trying to make as little noise as possible, just in case.

Seemed like hoping to be left alone was wishful thinking. Far in the distance and sitting there on the ground and leaning against the unlit fireplace was Dust, the one Dream was most wary of, the most aloof of the three. He was in the main room, the one that had been destroyed and had all furniture removed. Nobody else was there.

Dust seemed unaware of Dream, instead muttering to himself. Dream was a little worried, there was only negativity in the air. He felt sick again, but approached slowly.

And soon enough as expected, he had given himself another spot to clean. Such an action did not go unnoticed of course, with Dust's attention immediately on him as he wiped the remains from his face. He froze as he noticed Dust's gaze.

There was a certain insanity in his eyes, and the air was heavy with despair. Though the feeling seemed to lift a little as Dust pushed himself up to a standing position and started to walk towards him. Dust seemed to say something as he opened his mouth. Dream panicked, retreating with fumbling steps.

"... r ... why..." was what heard the other say just before Dream shut the door behind him, locking it. He was back in his room again, and if he had a heart, it would be pounding like crazy. Why did Nightmare leave Dust alone with him? Surely if they had to pick someone to watch over him, it would be someone else? Dream wasn't familiar with Dust at all, so his actions were unpredictable to him. Dream could still hear the shuffling of feet outside. "-running away?"

He had effectively trapped himself.

He'd come to this realisation when his mind had decided to work again, that Dust could simply teleport into his room, and he would be doomed. He spent the next few minutes running himself down further into anxiety only to realise no such thing was happening, nor had it happened during the time he had been worrying.

Instead, a weight settled itself against his room door, which Dream assumed was Dust.

Now he really couldn't leave.

"No, nonono-" a panicked whisper. "That's not true..."

That voice was no doubt Dust's. From the other side of the door Dream could hear the broken conversations. What was wrong? Had the other always been this way? He never spoke much, and so before this Dream had no inclination to believe that he was any more crazy than being a murderer. But this, this was something else entirely.

The mood didn't lift. Dust was outside his door, talking to himself, and wasn't entering the room even though he could, which Dream was still extremely confused by. It didn't make sense for Dust to still be outside if he didn't want anything to do with Dream. He waited with great anxiety for something, anything to happen. Nothing did.

He couldn't take it anymore.

Dream unlocked the doors and opened them, to see Dust jump at the sudden action. "Killer..." he said as he stared at Dream from where he sat. "Why did you run away from me?" His gaze was unnerving, as if he were looking at Dream, but also past him. It remained a little longer before he turned to a side, to seemingly have an entirely different conversation. "No, I have to ask him myself."

Oh, Dream's eye sockets had been leaking again. That was why... and in the other's delirium he must have been mistaken. He had been hallucinating? Dream wished he still had his positive aura. Ever since the entire thing started, his aura had reduced so much it was next to non-existent now.

Even as fallen as the other might be, Dream couldn't leave someone in their despair.

"Dust?" He called tentatively. Dust paused in his one-sided conversation and slowly turned to face Dream.

"You're... not going to leave, right?" Dream didn't think he would ever feel bad for monsters that wanted to kill him, but here he was. "There had been no other choice, I had to do it." Dust told him, as if Dream knew exactly what he was talking about. "I had to get rid of the human... even if there would be nobody left... you understand, right?" When Dream didn't answer, he continued shakily. "Alone... all alone, it was worth it... right?"

"I'm not going anywhere, okay?" Dream reassured. He didn't know what the other was talking about, but...

"Then why did you run away?"

"I-I'm sorry, you scared me earlier. But I'm here now."

"Scared you... sorry..." he muttered. "Sorry... sorry..." he chanted as he rocked back and forth. His distress was rising. Dream softly put a hand on his shoulder, trying to reassure him. When Dust didn't react negatively, he kept it there.

Dream then crouched down to sit next to Dust, and started rubbing his back, hoping it helped. He made sure to keep his voice calm and even, keeping his distress hidden. "Hey, it's alright. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Dust didn't give a reply, sitting there frozen. He was still tense. It would have been much easier if he had his aura... but he would have to make do.

Then, Dream had an idea. "Wait here a moment, okay? I'll be right back, I promise!" In a swift motion he stood up, and ran into a room. He scooped a suitably thick blanket into his arms and ran back to where Dust was. He draped said blanket over Dust, who wordlessly accepted it. Dream then wrapped it around him nicely. "I always feel safer with my cape, so I thought this blanket might do the same for you too!"

Dust remained silent, while Dream tried his best to keep the mood up, bringing up fun stories of himself and his interactions with other monsters in other AUs. It seemed to work, even if Dream was the only one talking. Dream had been helping people for at least over a century, so he would like to think he knew what he was doing.

"You can talk to me when you feel you are ready to share what's on your mind, okay? I don't know what's wrong but... I'll lend a listening ear."

"..."

"..."

"Dream?" Dust finally spoke up.

"Yes?"

"You're Dream... right?"

"... Yes?"

"... Thank you."

For once during this stay, Dream felt genuine happiness well up within him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feelings are difficult to write can we go back to characters bickering-
> 
> Also uh... this story has a mind of it's own.
> 
> Bonus alt scene:
> 
> "You can talk to me when you feel you are ready to share what's on your mind, okay? I don't know what's wrong but... I'll lend a listening ear."
> 
> "..."
> 
> "..."
> 
> "Dream?" Dust finally spoke up.
> 
> "Yes?"
> 
> "You don't have ears."
> 
> "OH SHUSH, YOU!"


	8. Hurtful Words

Dust and Dream sat in comfortable silence as the need for conversation died off. All they had to do now was wait for the rest to return.

It felt weird to be sitting at the corridor, but moving would be even stranger. He didn't want to ruin the peaceful mood.

He'd even tried to hold in his sickness for the sake of it, but it didn't work anymore. He coughed up even more disgusting liquid, adding to the uncleaned pile from earlier. At least Dust didn't seem to mind, his gaze fixed unceasingly at the ground in front of him.

They continued sitting there until the silence was broken by loud voices coming from the outside. To this, Dust rose to his feet with the blanket still draped over him and walked away, presumably to his own room. This left Dream alone in the corridor, and not long after, the castle door opened to reveal Nightmare, Killer and Horror. They were carrying some things, namely a new television, a couch, a table and some bags of what Dream would assume to be food. There might have been other things, and it was actually impressive how much they could hold.

"Hey Dust! How was babysitting duty?" Killer called upon entering the castle and putting down the things he had in his hands. He sounded excited, but didn't get a response. "Dust?"

Killer walked around looking for Dust, and seeing he wasn't anywhere, chose to check the rooms, heading right to the corridor Dream was at. He spotted Dream and grinned.

"Hey Dream, you missed a spot." He pointed at one of the uncleaned pile of sludge that was still there. He really didn't have to say that, even if he were right. He _really_ didn't have to. "By the way, where's Dust? Is he slacking on the job already?"

"I think he's in his room." Dream replied. "He… was a little distressed earlier. You might want to go check on him."

Killer looked at Dream questioningly, but seemed to comply as he started heading towards Dust's room.

"Oh, wait!" He shouted, which stopped Killer in his steps. "Sorry, I had to make sure, you… nobody killed anyone, right? When you were…" Dream didn't like to say it but, "stealing."

"Well," he pretended to ponder. "Maybe~" Killer's grin was back with full intensity. "What do you think?"

Dream opened his mouth to accuse them of massacring an entire population but then Killer was knocked aside by a tendril. Nightmare had arrived.

"Don't be stupid, Dream. Why would I murder anyone? They can't be devastated if they're dead." 

And because all things that go up must come down, Dream's mood plunged.

"Oh, so _now_ you're willing to talk to me?" Nightmare had barely been in his own universe, mostly leaving him with the other three. He didn't know what Nightmare had be doing, but it couldn't have been good. "And you _liar_ , I always see you kill people!" Dream accused. In the corner of his eyes, Dream could see Killer leave hurriedly, as there was really no place for him in the conversation.

"Then, what made you think I'll stop now?" Nightmare quipped. "Why did you even bother asking?"

"Ahh! So you did murder innocent people to get what you want!"

"I didn't say that."

"You heavily implied it!"

Nightmare rolled his eyelight, looking incredibly unamused. "We must have gone over this hundreds and thousands of times already, Dream. Just stop it. Your empty words are not going to do anything. They haven't been doing anything for the last century."

At this, Dream went silent, mouth drawn into a hard line. Instead, he coughed weakly. Nightmare gave him a look that Dream would only describe as pity.

"Don't look at me like that…" his eyesockets must have been leaking for a while now, but he didn't want to care anymore. "Just let me leave, this place is only making me sicker."

Nightmare's expression didn't change. "I'm afraid that's not an option."

"Why?" He asked, defeated. "I'm sure you've had enough of me here. Seeing how you're always gone anyway."

"It's so that I can find out more about your condition, _genius_. Who do you think has to check up on Sci? _Not you_. And don't think I didn't notice how your condition became worse when I took you along with me. Right now you're just a weak, defenseless monster, if I take you anywhere again, you'll die."

Dream sulked. He did feel it get much worse when travelling in negativity. But he hated staying here. He had been here long enough. But wait, Nightmare had been visiting Sci in all the times he had been gone? Dream narrowed his eyes at Nightmare. "You didn't threaten him again, did you?"

Nightmare pointed a tendril at Dream. Dream backed away a little. "Worry about yourself first. How the hell are you not already dead?! Even if you have no sense of self-preservation, at least have some sense of personal responsibility! And you wonder why I can't leave you alone."

"You're the one that's been giving me problems all these years, I don't know why you're just telling me this now? Don't think you have any say in what I do, in fact, you're someone who would kill me if you could!"

" _Stars_ , Dream do you _only_ think the worst of others? What kind of 'guardian of positivity' are you?"

" _You_ never give me a reason to believe otherwise!"

"Then are all your words of reconciliation _LIES_ as well?" Nightmare was furious, his tentacles twitching in obvious irritation. Dream was feeling rather frustrated as well, but he didn't mean to- "What a fucking joke. Enough of this. I'm leaving." He shoved past Dream, making sure to hit him, and headed further down the corridor.

Dream glared at his retreating back, finally wiping at his drippy eye sockets with his gloves. Why was it so hard to simply talk? Why couldn't they just speak without fighting?

Now with much less enthusiasm he trudged over the the living room. Picking up the mop, he dragged it over to the unclean spot and started cleaning. In the distance, Horror had been watching everything unfold in silence. He seemed to have been enjoying some meat, placed neatly on a plate, along with nice cutlery, as if he wouldn't in the next second just use his hands to shove all that food in his mouth. Dream glared at him too as he waved at Dream with a mouth full.


	9. Closed Up

Dream never found out how the meetings between Sci and Nightmare went. Nightmare would probably be avoiding him once again. Dream was really tired of it. 

He would have to assume there still had been no answers. Even if things were tense, Dream didn't think Nightmare would keep such information from him, seeing as to how much he wanted to preserve his own life. Yes, that would be the only reason Nightmare was helping him after all. 

Like a fool, he had believed otherwise, but now he was fully prepared to expect nothing.

Remaining idle as the sickness ate at him, what a hopeless thing to do. He'd been sitting on the bed, his room a self-imposed prison, thinking again. That's all he'd been doing recently. More so than ever before in his life. 

It was becoming rather unpleasant, negative thoughts come flooding easily. Ruminating had never been his thing.

Had his words really been empty ones? All his words came from the heart, or it was what he liked to believe. 

He had never stopped hoping for the halcyon days to return, however impossible that might be. It was something so utterly unattainable, and yet he couldn't let go. 

To grasp so firmly at nothing, how desperate he must be. Nightmare had been right, somewhere along the way he must have given up, and his hope became something of a mirage. 

... He had become someone who spewed hollow words that held no weight. How despicable. 

Truthfully, the corruption had not been as debilitating as he had expected. It wasn't like he had become bedridden. It held it's place as an inhibitor to his powers, and now positivity no longer seemed to favour him. He didn't feel much weaker physically, but he won't be able to use any magic at all to defend himself. So other than the coughing and hacking, the bothersome sludge, it was still bearable. 

What wasn't bearable was Nightmare thinking he could keep Dream here. It was almost funny how it was easier to tolerate Killer, Horror and Dust than Nightmare himself. They were all skeletons with murderous tendencies, broken by their past, but he found himself strangely alright with them. It wasn't that he condoned their actions, but it was easier to sympathise when viewing from a different perspective. And as long as they weren't trying to snuff out his life or torture anyone, they were okay.

It was much easier to fight someone when you dehumanise them. To hurt someone without remorse, you have to believe they are the absolute evil, so your actions against them can become justified.

It was harder to do so now, when Dream had so commonly witnessed them fighting over the remote, teasing each other, clearly making do with what they have. Even if these playful confrontations turn into full on sparring matches, there remained an atmosphere of contentment. 

He never disliked those who tried their best despite their harrowing circumstances. They weren't _just_ a bunch of criminals anymore. 

But Nightmare always seemed distant. Almost as if he were the odd one out.

…

Thinking about them… he hoped Dust was okay. If they had already known his actions to be a common occurrence, then they should have it sorted out suitably. It was always easier when he helped others with their problems. That way, he could forget about his own less important ones. 

But Dream hadn't left his room since the argument with Nightmare. He still wasn't comfortable participating in idle conversation with anyone here.

Even if he were to be worried about monsters like them, slaughtering of the innocent was definitely not an acceptable action. 

It was something that Nightmare particularly loved to do. To kill in front of him, as if it were all fun and games. Perhaps it was to draw a reaction out of him, or to crush his spirit? 

Not one death becomes any less disheartening each time, therefore Nightmare… ever the victor. The more he thought about it, the more irredeemable Nightmare became. 

His bleeding heart only worked to his detriment. Things would be much easier if he could stop caring. But that wasn't an option either, there were enough apathetic people in the world.

His thoughts scattered when there came a knock on the door. 

It was unexpected. Nobody tried bothering him when he had been holed up in his room before, so who could it be? There was no follow up, no words, not anything. It returned to silence. 

Did they leave? 

He looked through the peephole on the door. There was no one there. Dream contemplated opening the door. Was someone waiting to ambush him? He didn't feel any emotion nearby though.

He decided not to open. 

And so nothing changed. 

* * *

It was the next day, or so he assumed. Dream couldn't tell anymore. 

The outside environment could be interesting at times. Dream would often find himself leaning in a suitably comfortable position, looking through the window. Today was no exception. The surroundings were filled with strange trees, in an otherwise dead world. Sometimes there would be little critters scampering around in the darkness, the light from their eyes the only visible part of them.

Of course Nightmare would find a universe where the purple skies never changed and daylight never shone. It was no wonder he had lost his sense of time. 

The tree leaves were in a dark colour, something that was pointedly _not_ green. Dream considered the eternal night dull, but it was nothing surprising, he could never guess Nightmare's thought process. 

Opposites, that's what they are. Always have been. Always will be.

There was a knock on the door again. Two knocks and then silence, just like the day before. If there was one thing rising, it was Dream's curiosity. This lack of further input, yet persistence to the second day. The intent was hard to gauge. 

He couldn't feel anything other than a flicker of hopefulness from the other side. But it was gone as soon as he felt it. 

What was the point if they were going to disappear after knocking? 

… 

As expected, the peephole showed only an empty wall. What was going on? 

Losing to his curiosity, he slowly pulled the door ajar. He looked though the door crack, to still find no one. Instead, at his feet there was a plate with a mango on it. 

Only then did he realise he hadn't eaten in days. He frowned, picking up the plate and closed the door. 

He looked over the mango, checking it. It was nice and ripe, not spotty like some of the fruits he had received while locked up. 

Dream ate it up gratefully. 

Having nothing to do again, he went back to the window and continued staring out.

* * *

He might be defenseless, but he still knew how to dodge. Granted, it was only because he have had much practice. But now, he feared he might have lost his touch.

He missed his bow. He could only wonder where it had gone.

It was either Nightmare had tossed it away somewhere never to be found again or he was keeping it somewhere Dream wouldn't be able to reach. 

Both sounded undesirable. 

However… nothing was actually stopping him from sneaking around. Maybe he could find it. If he was going to be stuck anyway, perhaps he should try his luck. What would be a good time to leave? Time was nothing here. 

He sat in silent regard even as he felt the sludge flow out from his joints and ribs. 

There came the same two knocks again, after enough time had passed for it to be yet another day. The relief he felt from the one behind the door disappeared just as quickly as it came. 

Had someone been worried about him eating…? He felt strangely warm. He quickly shook it off. He was probably just another chore to be taken care of. 

But… hope and relief? 

He opened the door without checking this time, and there it was, another plate. This time it was a few sliced melons.

He finished them quickly and decided it was time to leave his room. He gathered up the plate from before and stacked it with his current plate, finally taking a step out of his room.


	10. Apple Bunnies

Fucking stupid, was what it was. 

This whole mess. Why the hell should he even care? Just let that dumbass coop up in his room and sob for all he wants. It wasn't like what he said had been untrue. 

He wasn't the one in the wrong here.

Nightmare glared at the book he was supposed to be reading. Eye obviously not focusing on anything but the rage in his mind. 

He definitely did not pay any notice to the miserable display of democracy over the rights to choose the channel to watch. Surely there could be no democracy if there were only _two_ people, and the aforementioned two were snatching at the remote, declaring one's opinions be superior to the other.

It was all background noise to him, sooner or later the issue would be resolved. Even if during the resolution, the remote would find itself smashed across the room, slam dunked through the floor, and shattered into tiny shards. It would become petty button tapping on the side of the television… how stupid.

He could feel the dip of the couch as an added weight joined the rest on the single tiny space. Dust had returned to hide under his blanket. They were all squeezed together in that one couch, which was just the right size. But if personal space was something to be valued, then the answer could only be absolutely fucking not. 

Perhaps he should have gone for a bigger one. No, he definitely should have, there should be no modesty in such things, he was already commiting a crime. He'd have to rectify his mistake in given time. Now he just wanted to focus on his book and _not_ think about Dream. 

But that was proving to be diffcult, especially when even Dust seemed to care more about Dream than him. Dust, going out of his way… to get Dream some food? What the fuck.

Leaving Dust with Dream might not have been the best idea after all. Or any of them for that matter. With how his brother so easily sways others over, it was no wonder as to why he had told all of them not to talk to him while he had been imprisoned. But he hadn't bothered with a follow up. Dream was doing a well enough job of that himself.

But the fact still remained that he had left Dust with Dream for one freaking moment, and that happened. It certainly also didn't explain why Killer had become more clingy as of late, and wouldn't leave Dust alone. 

Did not getting to murder for an entire month make their mind mushy? What was he even doing anymore?

No. He. Needed. To. Keep. His. Attention. On. The. Book.

* * *

Dream was nervous. It was only natural, as he was alone in this. If he hadn't been assured of the fact that he would likely _not_ get killed here, he would never have taken one step out of that room through that door.

He would have leapt out of that window and ran so far away they wouldn't know where to find him. Even if the foliage of trees stretched endlessly far beyond, there could be no stopping. He would be spared from getting killed, but continue to be trapped in the same universe and risk never being found by anyone else.

He wasn't that desperate yet. They weren't throwing themselves at him and drawing their weapons to rip at him at every encounter, which was more than he could ask for. 

Keeping his steps light, he approached the living room. It was usually the most brightly lit place of the entire castle, but at the moment it was dark. The fire place was actually lit up for once. The orange flames burned, but the light from it wasn't too bright. The only other light source was the television. It was on, images running through the screen. Dream saw all four of them huddled lazily on one very crowded couch. He could feel the squeeze from where he stood. They did have two sofas before, so it was understandable how one wouldn't be enough now. 

Nightmare, who was sitting on the extreme left, wasn't even looking at the television, instead he held a book tightly in his hand, glaring intensely at the pages. Dust seemed to be bored, but his eyes were still on the screen. He was partially covered by the blanket Dream had handed over to him, looking sleepy. Killer and Horror's attention were entirely caught on the fight scenes playing out on the screen, with them loudly cheering for a character to be decapitated. 

Well he definitely wasn't going to be able to sneak around like this. 

Nightmare was the first to notice him. He didn't even try to hide his scowl, the intense glare at the pages now redirected at him. He took to his feet and with his book in hand, started to leave. His path cut right across the television screen, causing a few whines and complains. Of course he paid no mind to them, instead heading straight to the stairs on the right side of the room. 

Up he went, to the second floor of the huge living room off-limits to everyone else, to where his personal throne was. On that smaller platform of a second floor, the wall at the back had a door, an entrance to his own personal quarters. He slammed the door as he entered.

If that wasn't the definition of rude, Dream wouldn't know what would be.

… It wasn't like Dream wanted to talk to him anyway, so it was great he was gone.

…

"Yikes, Nightmare really hates you, huh?" Killer snickered from where he sat. 

"You shut up!" Dream shouted across the room before he could slap a hand over his mouth.

"Ooh, feisty." Killer started laughing but was stopped by Horror using his hands to force his head back to face the television. 

"Fuckin' pay attention, we're at the best part!" 

"Geez…" Killer went back to watching the television, but also picked up an apple and started carving his knife through it. 

Dream deadpanned, not wanting to deal with any of it. Then he noticed the plates still in his hands. He couldn't not say it. "But… thank you for the fruits…" 

Killer pointed his knife at Dust, using it like it was his index finger. The mentioned individual who had been staring at Dream absent-mindedly the entire time. "That'd be Dust."

"O-oh." He moved closer to the couch to look Dust in the eyes before muttering a quick thank you. He hurried off into the kitchen after that. He placed the plates down into the sink and ran the water over them. He took off his circlet to wash as well, it was a good chance to keep it clean. He quickly finished washing everything but he didn't want to go back outside.

But then there was no point staying in the kitchen either. And he did want to ask for a favour…

He poked his head out of the kitchen door to take a peek. Dust seemed to have fallen asleep, he did look tired earlier. Killer had, in the time Dream had been in the kitchen, cut up a pile of apple bunnies. Three of them were stacked up on each pile, with a few piles placed neatly on the newly stolen table.

Suddenly, one entire pile vanished, swiped up by Horror and devoured like a small snack. Killer was not losing in terms of speed either. He promptly swiped the knives at an apple and made six apple bunnies in one go before releasing them onto the table for Horror to inhale. The atmosphere was rather relaxed. 

Still, with bated breath Dream stepped out back into the living room to approach the couch. "Hey, Killer… you're… you like knives, right?" He started. That was dumb, of course Killer _loved_ knives. But how else could he approach this?

"Oh, what _ever_ could have given that away?" He chuckled, amused.

"So does that also mean you're good at using them?" 

"Duh. Only the best. Look!" He lifted a apple bunny for Dream to see more clearly. He acted too much like an excited child, something Dream could never have imagined before. "Do you want one?"

And before he knew it, an apple bunny was flung at him, hitting him right in between his eye sockets. "Ow!" But it tumbled onto Dream's catching hands. 

"Uh... oops?" Killer said _almost_ apologetically. Dream glared at him, but still accepted the apple. 

He examined it, and it looked rather cute. At least it didn't look like an apple anymore. 

This distracted him a bit, but Dream still needed to ask. 

"Do you think you could... spar with me?" When Killer's excited smile dropped, Dream became worried, waving his hands he quickly added, "I'm sorry if this is too sudden of a request! I understand if you just-"

"No, that sounds fucking wonderful! I haven't stabbed actual moving things in a few days." In an instant, Killer was off the couch. 

"Wait-"

"We're getting the hell out of here now." Killer said as he grabbed a hold of Dream.


	11. Can't Run Away Forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Added some images

The world shifted around him, and he was no longer in the castle. Instead of a ceiling, the purple sky now loomed above, and the strange trees were present on all sides. It looked to be a clearing within a part of the forest area. But it was also incredibly dark, the only light source being the moonlight. 

It was a full moon that night, possibly the only indication of time there. It was bigger than those he would see in other worlds, a true giant. A small pond mirrored it, the soft glow captured onto the surface below.

The general area looked a bit worn, visible damage in the trees and ground. With what seemed to be soil turned over the grass in some parts of the floor, and trees with a few missing branches, or a chunk of it missing. Fallen wood were ever present, scattered throughout like debris after a hurricane. 

He hadn't expected Killer to get so excited, so much so that he would bring them out into the open darkness. Surely he wouldn't try to kill him _now_ , when he had not done so all the other times?

He briefly wondered if any of them knew that killing him would rid Nightmare too. Dream decided it was best if he didn't try to guess. 

Even though he asked for this, he was starting to have second thoughts. 

"W-where is this?" Dream could see the castle, but it was quite the distance away, route shrouded by trees.

"This is our usual sparring ground. Far enough from the castle where we can't accidentally destroy anything." 

"But it's so dark! Are we really-" 

"Everything here is dark. Geez, your lack of will is disappointing... so will you give up just because you're afraid of a little dark?" Killer retrieved one of his knives from his jacket.

"No..." Dream said softly. He only wanted to get himself moving and some practice, so sparring might not have been the right word to use. Especially when he had almost no magic. This was going to be a very one-sided battle if he didn't set some rules.

"Then there should be no issue. Let's start already." Killer was hopping from foot to foot, looking restless.

"No, I need to make clear some things first." Dream sighed. "I have no weapon, and can't use my magic properly, as you might know." He made a weak attempt at bringing out his magic, only for it to dissipate almost immediately. "I just want to practice dodging. And please, no killing."

Killer stopped his bouncing. "Boo. How boring." When Killer didn't continue immediately, Dream was ready to bring up all the reasons why- "But alright, it would be too easy otherwise. And I'm not dumb enough to kill you. Nightmare will have my head." A wide grin, and a suprisingly easy compromise. "Anyways, no magic it is. I use knives anyway."

Dream straightened as he felt something swoosh past him, barely grazing at his sleeves. A small thump sounded from behind, a knife embedded into a tree was his guess.

"What're ya standing there like an idiot for?" Killer said as he lunged at Dream. It was dark, but thankfully, he hadn't lost his ability to sense the presence of others. Though to be fair, Killer's emotions always felt suppressed, it was strange. He could feel the other approach quickly, and also see the glowing target soul. It was quite ominous, actually. The only real problem were probably projectiles.

The knife was an item easier to spot because of its reflectiveness. A little white flicker was all Dream needed to see for him to leap high up enough into the air for him to jump over Killer entirely, letting the other swing at air. Dream didn't take any moment to look down, knowing Killer was already preparing his next move. He rolled to break his fall, and when he stood to his feet he jumped backwards to avoid another dangerous strike. He couldn't catch his breath there either, following up with a sidestep, he let the knife miss him entirely. He had to be extremely focused and predict where Killer would strike next, that's the only way to ensure he doesn't get hit. 

"You're pretty good at dodging." Killer wiped at the black liquid flowing down his cheekbones. "But it's getting boring already, why don't you at least try to attack?" He swung his knife upwards like an uppercut. Dream managed to avoid that, too. He didn't reply, it would break his concentration.

After a few more minutes of intense focus and skillful escapes, Dream felt himself tire a little. His stamina had probably become much worse from his idleness. 

"C'mon, fight back." Killer seemed to have ceased in his attacks, choosing to look at Dream who tensed up, eyeing Killer with alertness. He had to be prepared for any sudden moves. "You can't dodge forever. Eventually you're gonna slip up. And sometimes one hit is all it takes."

Dream didn't seem to have heard him at all, only waiting for Killer to make the next move. "Here, I'll even lend you one of my knives." He tossed one of his older, more worn knife over. It clattered onto the ground in front of Dream, causing him to flinch and jump from that too. Killer sighed, understanding his words might not get through to the other. Maybe a different approach would be appropriate. 

What was Killer doing? Why was that attack aimed so miserably? He dared not look at the knife at his feet. Killer had gone somewhere else, and it was hard to see in the dark. It was very strange because after a while, Killer's presence seemed to have disappeared entirely. 

Dream felt dread rise within him, how did he...? How did Killer conceal his presence so well? Nobody else but Ink had been able to do that. Dream waited in apprehension, for his arm to be severed or ribs to be stabbed. But really, nothing happened for what felt like minutes.

Suddenly, he could sense the presence of three monsters to his north. He could vaguely make out the shape of them. It was Killer along with Horror and Dust. It would seem that Killer had actually left the area entirely, leaving him _alone_ in the dark! He was confused and felt just a bit betrayed. 

But why were the other two here? Surely he wouldn't have to fight them...? 

"Don't mind us, we're only here because this is just more interesting than TV." The two moved to the side to sit on a fallen log, hopefully remaining spectators. 

"You were talking about how dark it was," Dream turned back to where Killer was as his amused voice sounded from the distance. Dream heard some items drop onto the ground. "Heh, we usually have a fire. I was just messing with ya." Soon enough, the area was lit up a little by the orange flames. The items had been some firewood. He could see a little better where Killer was now. "We begin again."

Knowing where the enemy was and not getting hit were two entirely different things, as he would soon learn. Dream eyed him warily as Killer seemed to place his knives over the flame, heating it up. If the knives weren't dangerous before, they were going to be searingly painful now. It only made Dream more determined to avoid them. 

Killer came charging at Dream again, and Dream was prepared. He dashed to another direction. Soon they were rounding the fire, circling it. None were getting to the other.

But how ironic it was that the light source would be the blind spot. A knife flew through the fire, cutting through the wind so fast, Dream didn't manage to react before it had already embedded in his right tibia. He grit his teeth and hissed, his legs almost buckling from the unexpected pain. He took a moment before ripping the blade out. He gripped the knife tightly in his right hand. It wasn't blood or anything else that leaked from his wound, it was only more black ooze, which was what actually worried Dream the most.

In his distraction, Killer had trod over to where Dream was, forcing Dream's attention away from his wound. This time he only had one knife in his hand, the blade parallel to his forearm. 

With his injured leg, it was hard to be able to escape from anything. He hobbled, refusing to put more stress on the dripping wound. It wasn't long before he found himself pinned against a tree. 

"Told ya." Killer said as he pushed the knife inches away from Dream's face. "What will you do when you can't run away anymore?" 

* * *

Bonus images:  



	12. Not Good Enough

Dream tilted his face as far away from the knife as possible, frowning. He never liked direct confrontations, always choosing to aim and shoot from the sidelines. It wasn't for the lack of strength, but rather a preference. Dream let himself be restrained, because with his injury, he was going to easily be caught again. He just hoped that practice would be over. He wasn't feeling it anymore. "Are we done here?"

"Just gonna give up like that? I dont know 'bout you, little guardian, but I wouldn't feel assured if someone like you were responsible for the happiness of the entire multiverse." Killer taunted. 

"Are you going to let me go or not?" 

"Nah." He dug the knife into the tree bark, twisting it to dig in deeper. "You'll have to make me. In a fight you can't expect the enemy to spare you just because you're a little hurt."

"This _isn't_ an actual fight!" 

"And if it were? Will you just sit here and accept death?" Killer pushed the knife just a bit closer. "It's sad to see this is how little you care."

"Care?" Dream tightened his hold on the weapon still in his hand, getting increasingly annoyed. "What are you talking about?" 

"Well, let's say..." Killer brought the knife away, and spun it in his hand. "There's another monster here. And their life is in danger, because someone like me..." In a flash, the tip of the knife was pointed back at him. "... decided they should _die_." The increasing volume of black liquid flowing from Killer's eyes must not be a good sign. "Still gonna lie here uselessly?" 

"I don't know what you're talking about. This isn't the time for hypothetical scenarios! I can't escape anyway, you'll catch up to me easily even if I try!" He said with frustration. 

"So you'll give up even before trying." Killer started laughing, his grin growing sharp and uncomfortable. "Heheh, can't say I expected any better." Dream could feel a sharp dig into side of his neck and he cried out in pain. But Killer didn't manage to cut too deeply before a hand yanked him away. 

"That's enough. We're not supposed to kill him." Dust told Killer. In this moment of reprieve, Dream placed his hand to his neck, feeling the pain there. His hand shook, an unfamiliar emotion filling him.

Dream has quite had it with _everyone_ thinking less of him. He wasn't weak, he just chose to refrain from hurting others. But...

He grit his teeth, wetness pooling at his eyesockets. With shaking hands, he took the chance to ram the knife into Killer's arm. 

"OW OW, WHAT THE FUCK!!" Killer hissed, holding his injured arm. It cut deeply, knife lodged in his bone. Cracks surrounded it.

"Is this what you want?!" Dream sobbed angrily, tears spilling down his cheeks. "Is it??" His choked cries went unanswered and he could feel his tears mix with the sludge. He wiped furiously at them, but only more would pour. It only served as a reminder to how much of a mess he was. He just wanted to run away. He wanted to be anywhere else but here. Why, why did he have to be so miserable?

He pushed himself off the support of the tree and ran away, ignoring the intense pain that shot up his leg with every step. Even as he felt the cracks grow, he never slowed his pace. Nobody chased after him, even as he went further and further away from the castle. It was okay, he deserved it anyway. He was someone who never tried hard enough.

So why should anyone try for him? 

* * *

Perhaps he had been too cold to Dream lately. Dream had been sick, sad and quite frankly, empty. It didn't help that they didn't have a good relationship in the first place, so Dream only pushed him away everytime they spoke. It didn't help, how his mouth would move on it's own to present it's own set of arguments, leaving everything a deadlock each time. It had been this way for so long, doing anything else seemed impossible.

So that was why it was better the less they interacted. 

The only reason he had brought Dream here was because of Dream's drastic action. Dare he say he had actually been worried. 

But he didn't know how to remedy it. What the hell was he supposed to do? 

There was clearly no point in trying to read anymore, his mind had wandered too far for any form of focus to be possible.

Everyone's presence had disappeared from the castle a while ago. He supposed they were out sparring or something of the sort. Dream was gone too, perhaps it was a good thing, for him to get some fresh air. 

He on the other hand needed something to do.

...

Perhaps another visit was due.

* * *

"W-wha!!" Sci fell over backwards from his chair in a crash. His hands scrambled in search of his glasses that had fallen off, finally stopping when his hand had found familar the glass. He quickly composed himself and acted like nothing embarrassing just happened. "W-what brings you here t-today, Nightmare?" 

He was so obviously nervous. It wasn't anything different from the usual though, it only made Nightmare want to scoff. "You already know."

"R-right!" He ran over to a side, grabbing the papers that had been strewed all over the table top. He tried to arrange the papers, and seemed to calm down as he sat back down on his chair. "Well... truthfully this has been very difficult, it is something I'm entirely unfamiliar with." He continued. "You and Dream are entirely unique, you mentioned both of you are spirits of emotion. And Dream has never had this happen to him before, am I right?"

Nightmare nodded.

"I've confirmed the crystal Dream had passed to me is from the same source as the one you've presented me with in your last visit. I remember you mentioning you have a part in the creation of the crystal? May I have more details regarding that?"

"I've already tol-" he paused. This was not the time to be selfish. "Alright! Fine." He breathed out a sigh.

"Oh, I'm grateful!" Sci grabbed a pen and a notebook. 

"This stays between us, you _got_ that?" 

Sci nodded furiously.

"Those are made from my tears." Nightmare said calmly, he was careful not to show it, but he was already feeling embarrassed. 

Sci opened his mouth before closing it again. Nightmare knew he wanted to ask more about the implied crying part, but he was correct in shutting up. 

Then after a while, he asked, "That specific universe crystallised your tears?" 

"Apparently so." 

Sci slumped a little, before changing the topic. "How has Dream been like recently? Can't you bring him here? It would be easier to work with."

Nightmare sighed. "He's been progressively getting worse. The sludge has been getting more obvious. And that is an impossible request. My travelling methods seem to adversely affect him. It makes his corruption worse."

"This is unfortunate... we know he is affected by negativity, possibly indirectly by the negative apples. The problem is why did this happen suddenly, when it has never before? Had Dream been carrying around the crystal for long?"

"I don't know."

A sigh. "... alright then."

* * *

When Nightmare returned from his visit, he was hit by a wave of guilt. In fact, the very world had become more negative. Well, well, what could it be this time? It had better not be something stupid. He approached the castle doors, pushing them open with his tendrils. 

* * *

Bonus images:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh right, I added images to the previous chapter if you haven't seen :p  
> ... and this one too now, apparently.


	13. Tired

There he saw a lone figure resting on the couch. But rest was not the right word to use. Killer had a bandaged arm, sitting with a solemn expression. The usually calm feelings within the other was a maelstrom of a mess. But guilt seemed to overwhelm all other. He fiddled with his hands and tapped his foot occasionally, like he was nervous. Nightmare could only wonder what the hell happened.

The feelings of guilt and fear intensified as soon as he noticed Nightmare. Well wasn't that just _great_.

"What's going on?" He asked, and he could see Killer visibly flinch at the question, even though Nightmare was sure he had been waiting for it. That wasn't a good sign. Where were the rest…?

"I-I'm sorry, b-boss." He muttered, and didn't say anymore other than continue to apologise like he was chanting a mantra. Nightmare was not dealing with this shit.

"Stop fucking apologising, just tell me what the hell happened!" At his raised voice, Killer finally looked up and faced him. 

"Dream he… ran away." He told Nightmare slowly before looking down again.

"WHAT?" His frown deepened. His first action was to get angry. It was like someone had unloaded a whole new set of problems for him to clean up, which only infuriated him. He stomped over to where Killer was, ready to demand for more information but…

With one look at Killer… ugh. He needed to calm down. This anger is useless. Taking a deep breath, he let the emotion settle down, his unconsciously tightened hands unclenching.

He had already considered the possibility of Dream attempting escape, but such an action was stupid even for him. Dream didn't even have his powers! Running away was not going to do anything. Unless he had recovered by some miracle, he couldn't have gone far. 

It was rather bad, but why would Killer feel _so_ guilty? Something didn't add up. With how things were looking, Killer had to have something to do with it. "What did you do." A sentence spoken with absolute certainty.

The reply came after a short silence. "I just wanted to tease him a little, ya know?" Killer seemed to attempt a chuckle but it failed miserably. His laugh probably wasn't even convincing to himself, and he stopped after the first breath. "But I went overboard. During our spar, I might have, uh, made him cry and stab me." 

Nightmare rolled his eye light. He really didn't see what was so wrong, they were sparring, of course they were going to get hurt. He had been expecting worse. "He's always been a crybaby. I don't understand why you're feeling _so_ guilty." 

"Don't know… felt like I did something I shouldn't have." Nightmare didn't know how to feel about that, Dream was making people feel sorry for him again. It was hard not to, with how pathetic he had become.

"Ugh, whatever." He waved Killer off, turning back around to the castle doors. "Quit your moping, I'll go find him." But before he can leave, "Wait. Where are Horror and Dust?" 

"They're out searching for him." 

"I see." Then Nightmare stepped out the door. After taking a few steps he could sense Killer following him like a lost puppy. Killer didn't say anything even as Nightmare turned to glance at him with a raised brow. 

* * *

Dream didn't care where he was going. It really didn't matter. Trees… trees and more trees. It was so dark, everything was pretty much a tree. He used them as support at every turn, leaning his weight against them as he proceeded further. He wouldn't be able to say how long he'd been running, but he'd been crying the entire time. So much so that he couldn't feel any tears fall anymore. 

The adrenaline was wearing off, and the pain was coming back, slamming at him with full force. The true damage he had done to his right leg had come biting at him in it's entirety. Just a few more steps. He told himself every time he felt the pain spread.  
Just a bit more… just a little… 

Further.

Then, there was a loud resounding crack. He could feel his bone split apart. Something coming loose entirely, Dream was mortified. In that moment of shock, it was almost as if the world had slowed to a halt. Only the thought of 'oh', the sudden realisation that his body had finally given in, registered.

Then it all accelerated, time rushing back, his fall a splendid display of a house of cards collapsing. All to the moment his head crashed against the ground below. He screamed in pain at impact.

It was agonising. But having exhausted his tears, all that came out was a choked sob and whimpers. And if it wasn't bad enough already, his coughing started to act up again. 

It would seem that running wasn't even an option anymore. Seeing how his leg had decided to give up on him too.

Dream continued to lay in the dirt, unbothered to move. He would cry more, but he only felt hollow. Shaking his head, his mind replayed the moments of his outburst. How embarrassing. Perhaps the worst part was that he didn't actually feel _that_ bad about stabbing Killer. The other had practically begged for it. 

Even so…

…

He was just so tired. He seemed to have fallen into the same pit of negativity he so desperately try to help others from. This thick lethargy was familiar to him. He had seen it time and time again. People so lost in their own despair they become blind to everything else. So caught up in their own misery, nobody else mattered anymore. 

He would wrap his arms around them, and with a nice smile on his face, provide as much physical comfort as possible. Some liked it, others preferred to simply have someone listen to their woes, so he would be that someone for them. Dream would give them some nice words, maybe even pretty lies. As if with mere words, all their problems would be erased.

How stupid.

But that was what his aura was for. Even if the happiness was fake, even if it were all a fleeting lie, he would do it, if it meant being able to pull someone back from the tipping point. 

To find hope again and climb out from the pit, sometimes all they needed was a push. He could be that help. 

His aura could. 

If only someone would do the same for him. But now, even his powers…

He felt the presence move closer. Wariness and worry. They've been there for a while now. Dream had already known someone had been following him since some time ago, but they always kept a certain distance. 

However, they were now getting close enough, to the point where Dream could hear their footsteps, the sound of crushed leaves. 

Suddenly on alert, he mustered the little strength he had left, and used his arms to lift his torso such that he wasn't lying completely flat on the ground. Still, his broken leg was on the floor. Looking at it dejectedly, he reached out for it, grabbing. After securing the broken part in his hands, he shifted back to where he had been facing and started crawling away. It was painfully slow. His eyes felt droopy. His body screamed for rest. But he ignored it. The dirt and grime stuck onto him easily, but he kept going. 

As hopeless as it was to continue, at least nobody could say he hadn't tried.

The footsteps became louder. It had to be one of the three. It really wasn't far fetched at all, there was nobody else here but them. And if they didn't come fetch him, Nightmare would get mad at them. Even if his rage would be from a desire to regain control of the situation rather than actual concern, Dream would accept it. 

It had reached the point where they were only a few steps behind him, the sound stopped. "Hey." They greeted. It was Horror. "Need a lil' help here?" Despite the light tone, Horror still seemed a little on edge. 

… Maybe it was okay to just rest now? He was so tired, after all. It didn't matter either way, as he heard the noise of something hitting the ground softly. He turned to where the noise was from to see his slackened hand empty of what he had been holding earlier. 

Huh? 

His vision felt a bit blurry. Somehow he felt some dirt get on his cheeks. The ground? When had he gotten so close to it?

"-shit."

_Oh._

Dizziness.

...

And then nothing.


	14. Let Go

Nightmare was going to tell Killer to search elsewhere so they could cover more ground, but they didn't even manage to get far at all, before he picked up some anxiety over to the direction of the castle. Looking over with interest, he motioned for Killer to follow.

He stepped over the grass and weaved through the trees, to see Horror holding an unconscious Dream tightly in his arms, right outside the castle. Why did he look so battered? Was this because of the spar? Unconciously, his face fixed into a glare. Horror practically jumped as he saw Nightmare emerge from the trees and walked closer. "B-boss!" 

"Give him here." He demanded, extending his arms at Horror. Horror quickly handled him over, but the way he still held steadily, really proved a point. Dream slumped over in his arms while he checked for injuries. Thankfully it seemed he had passed out from exhaustion more than anything else.

And then Horror handed him a leg. Dream's leg to be specific. What the _fuck_. How did he run with a broken leg. 

"Killer!" He shouted, before whipping around to face Killer. Killer winced at his name being called. And if he didn't already look like a kicked puppy, he definitely did now. "Explain. Now." 

Horror simply watched nervously from the sides, saying something about getting Dust, before leaving entirely. Killer glanced over at Horror leaving, feeling just a little betrayed. Of course, he quickly turned back to face Nightmare.

"I might've... possibly stabbed his leg..." he fidgeted under the glare. "B-but I didn't break it! I really didn't break his-" 

Nightmare raised his tendrils threateningly, pressing one at Killer. "You will tell me, what _exactly_ it is that you did. And you won't leave anything out." 

Killer nodded quickly.

Nightmare listened as Killer detailed the events leading to the point when Dream ran away. It would seem that Killer had said things upsetting to Dream, causing him to get extremely distressed and retaliate, running away.

Oh, Dream was definitely no angel when it came to violence, but he was someone who would hold back unless desperate, or when he feels it is justified. In which Dream always felt justified in stabbing him full of arrows, which was fair.

"You should have known better than to push when the signs had been obvious." He scolded, despite being the worst offender. "I _do not_ want to see any of you mistreating Dream anymore, is that _understood_?"

A silent nod of acknowledgement and another apology.

Nightmare gave a deep, long sigh before heading towards the castle still holding Dream... and his leg. "It is not me you have to apologise to." He said, before the door closed behind him.

Killer had not been lying. So that must mean that Dream had ran until his leg fucking broke off. What a mess. Thankfully, due to the nature of skeletons, the bleeding wouldn't be too an big issue.

His turned the doorknob to Dream's room, and with a push, the wind rushed out. In the room with only the bare minimums, empty walls and a single bed greeted him. It was much less dusty and cluttered than it had been before the cleaning, no doubt. But the old wallpapers have not been changed. They bore tears in them, their floral patterns ruined. His eyes trailed up to see a clock hung high on the wall, with hands that had long stopped. 

He lowered Dream onto the bed and placed his leg where it would be if it weren't severed. Nightmare stared at the unmoving Dream for a little while longer before leaving the room. 

Nightmare came back with rolls of bandages and some wet cloth. Kneeling next to the bed, he removed Dream's boot from his detached leg. He wiped the dirt and blood off of him. It didn't help that the dirt was literally everywhere. Then he wrapped the dressing tightly around the bones in an attempt to reattach them. It wasn't going to help much with the recovery, but at least it was better than nothing at the moment. 

With a particular hard tug at the bandage in an attempt to tighten it, Dream shifted. And the previously relaxed expression now fixed to a frown.

It didn't please Nightmare at all. This heavy sadness seemed to be all Dream was now. And even in rest, it never went away. 

As much as Nightmare would tell Dream how he hadn't changed at all, the truth was otherwise. He might look the same, but all that existed to anyone anymore was his skillfully executed facade. With his smiles and lies, everyone danced along to his tune.

Outwardly, he looked so hopeful, you'd think he'd actually believed he could convince Nightmare of anything. And yet all he felt from Dream is the lingering sadness and crushing despair of hopelessness every time they met.

That mask, and as the lone monster that understood this truth, Nightmare just wanted to tear it all apart. 

Only when Nightmare did anything drastic, like killing, especially in front of him, did that mask fracture. Even if it were just for a while, the anger, that bitterness, was real. His true emotions, not any false reassurances and denial that he liked to tell himself and everyone, that everything would be resolved if he just tried. Because reality was cruel.

That they can so easily ignore how much of an irredeemable monster Nightmare was? How long was Dream going to keep this up?

And so he did it again. 

_Stop pretending. You hate me don't you?_

And again.

_Why? Because it's funny._

And again. 

_I know._

...

It became common.

They fought constantly.

It became what they existed for.

...

Until one day, Dream didn't care anymore.

Even as Nightmare brought ruin to yet another positive world, Dream had been nowhere to be seen. 

Then, he found Dream alone, dealing with an intense amount of sorrow. 

Was this what he wanted?

He taunted Dream, trying to rile him up, the only thing he knew how to do now. As if by doing so, the anger would override the sadness. 

It worked, at first. Dream rose to fight him, and Nightmare left on his own after he was satisfied.

But things only spiraled from then. He would be a liar if he said it never once crossed his mind that he was only making everything worse. That in his attempt to have Dream give up on him, he had ruined him. If Dream hadn't been so persistent, and stayed true to his own feelings, would things have been better?

He was a fool, what had he been expecting? That there would be a better Dream behind that facade? That Dream would finally be happier when he gave up? All he got was someone raw and broken, how did he convince himself that this wasn't how it would turn out in the end?

Now that all the pieces have shattered onto the ground, and he had destroyed any remaining goodwill, Nightmare didn't know what to do anymore.

He was drawn out of his thoughts as he observed a troubled looking Dream reach for something to hold. His hand clutched at the blanket and tugged it over to cover himself. 

He was still sleeping.

Stupid, the blanket wasn't even used properly. Nightmare pulled it over so it would cover Dream nicely. But the uneasiness never left. He sat there silently.

Maybe he could...?

His hand hovered above Dream's skull, and for once in a long time, he felt unsure.

In the end he let himself give Dream a few pats, just him, awkwardly stroking Dream's head. There was no response at first, but when Dream leaned into the touch, he tensed. 

_Good job, Dream._

_Hm? Good job for what?_

_Well, you go out to the village everyday, I can only imagine how tiring it is to deal with them._

_Hehe, I am pretty tired._

_You have fun?_

_... Sure!_

...

With his own hands.

...

_H-hey! What was that for?_

_I'm giving you head pats!!_

_No, I'm supposed to be the one giving you head pats, stop assuming my role._

_You already did, it's my turn!_

_But I'm the older brother here._

_No you're not!_

_Well, YOU can't be the older one, you act like a baby!_

_What?! I do not!_

He destroyed this. 

The monster.

When he felt the soft touch of Dream's hands trying to hold him in place, he yanked his hand away like he had been burned and backed away.

He destroyed this.

He turned away to leave.

"Nighty?" Weak, so weak. "Where are you… going?" The voice barely a whisper. Did Dream wake up because of that?

"Away." He said simply, the door already half open. 

"You'll come back?"

Nightmare didn't give a reply. He didn't have to, because when he finally gathered enough courage to look back at Dream, he was completely asleep.

... Only the confused musings of a sleeping child.

He needed to get Dream away from here.

_You monster._


	15. Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a month ;-; uh  
> I've re-written this chapter a couple of times, each one had ended up with a different outcome, which would make the story go different ways. I didn't want to write myself into a corner.

The creeping shadows of the night, cast onto the walls by the soft moonlight. Yet the ceiling was the first sight that greeted him, where the light did not reach.

The sheets crumpled as he tried to heave himself forward to rest in a sitting position. His eyes found interest in the contorted shadows, bringing just a little more excitement to the unchangingly dull wallpaper.

There was the uneasy feeling to his right leg, something that wasn't quite right. The presence of bandages registered in his sight, and suddenly it all made sense. The memories came filtering through, and Dream felt himself curl up.

It was only superficial. The bandages provided no restoration. Useless, like taping broken glass togther. It would be silly if he didn't try his own hand at fixing this issue, for everything was so wholly inadequate. Squeezing at the bandaged area, he focused hard to call upon any inner strength. When a whole lot of nothing happened, Dream wouldn't dare say he was surprised.

He felt something akin to rage, blanket scrumpling at his grip. But before it could grow and spill, he pushed it down, forcing it into submission. 

However, nothing was infallible, and things just didn't want to work out this time. Rising sludge filled at his throat, forcing him to throw it up like sick. He made sure to avoid the fabric, having it spilled onto the ground instead. Disgusting. All that he was left with was now a indescribable frustration and confusion.

The waning full moon observed almost mockingly, framed perfectly by the window. But it was clear who was really the one confined within the frames.

Looking back down, he noticed there had been a pile of monster food stacked atop each other, balanced on the foot of his bed. It was a bit much, but they would help with recovery. 

But, what then? He'd been absent for months, and staying here wasn't doing anyone any favours.

* * *

Eyes opening, only then did he realise he had drifted off to sleep. Everything a still, darkened silence. 

Dream dragged himself across the sheets to sit at the side of the bed. One foot tapped the ground tentatively, then the other one with the injury. He pressed the wronged leg against the ground, testing it's weight. It would be better to say that the pain was to his still intact parts, and the severed one should be seen as a separate object. He wasn't going to be walking any time soon.

At least it was better now than before, after he had eaten the healing items. But they only really sped up recovery, rather than presenting with instantaneous results. Funny how ridiculously overpowered his healing was, it was something people would seek him for. Now nothing is of value is left. 

Sometimes he would feel the presence of the others outside, passing through, or even waiting. In those moments Dream would dread and brace himself for any interaction, but they never came in. 

It was clear staying any longer would only be foolish. He'd been idle for far too long, He deserved to be free, not treated like this.

But escape seemed so far away when he couldn't even use his legs. He'd even take the risk of dying if it meant Nightmare will toss him out. But Nightmare would never do that.

* * *

Very soon he found himself waking up from another nap, or was it a full night's rest? It didn't quite matter. 

Though he appreciated being left alone, it had to have been at least a day or few, right? It wasn't like he _wanted_ to see them, but it was just the thought that, maybe he wasn't even worth the attention anymore. 

He pulled the blanket over himself, over his head. If only he could get out of here on his own. But his powers elude him, and the positive energy he could gather within himself was none. 

* * *

Truth was, there had been another way he could make use of his powers. It was something he had never tried, a promise to himself. 

Instead of harnessing from his apple soul, he could manipulate the positivity of others, taking it away from them. 

The only result… is of course—unless someone had positivity in excess—unthinkable. 

He could never do it, to dare take it away, lest he commit a folly.

But at this point, when he was the only one who can do anything for himself, as the lone champion of his well being, he cannot allow his cyclic thoughts to drag him down any longer. 

Killer had been right in that regard, he had to try harder. Only he could, and this was no time to be hesitant.

Emotion was always fleeting, they came and went easily. So maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he used just a little to escape.

* * *

The window crashed open, thousand shards of pain splintered across the floor in a wonderful display of a mess.

"Ow, what the hell?" Ink rubbed his head as he dusted the sharp fragments off of himself. He stood to his feet. "Where am I?"

"What are you doing here?" A voice accused. Horror stood a distance away from Ink, his axe near and ready to be drawn. 

"Nice, fancy seeing you here! Do you happen to know where I am?" Ink hopped as Horror took a swing at him. "Because you see, Error tossed me into a portal and-" 

"I don't care, oh fuck!" Horror held his ground as he blocked the huge swing of Ink's brush. 

"Geez, calm down, I'm just curious where I am. I don't really want to fight." Ink put broomie behind himself, arms up in a placating manner while Horror watched with wary eyes. Then, a shadow approached, and it was none other than Nightmare. How unlucky.

"You. You've taken Dream already?" Nightmare said, like he was directing the question at him.

"Me? Dream? Huh?" Ink pointed to himself, confused. What was it about- ah, Error had mentioned something about Dream and Nightmare during their scruffle. 

"I needed you here so I can be rid of Dream. I thought he wouldn't do it but here you are…" Nightmare eyed the broken window, unimpressed. "Though there really should have been a better way." His tone full of disappointment.

"Dream's here? Now that you mention it, I haven't seen him in a while, I-" 

"Hold on, but Dream's not here anymore. And you're still here… how." Nightmare's eye narrowed. "You… you haven't seen Dream?"

"No?"

Nightmare seemed to tense up, before turning away completely and heading somewhere else. Ink decided to follow, curiosity once again the driving force of his actions.

Nightmare knocked loudly on a door. When there hadn't been any response, he kicked the door open, the force knocking some of the hinges off. Nightmare must be feeling angry, or frustrated, because he could have easily teleported into the room if he wanted to. It must have been one of the 'heat of the moment' things. Ink could only watch to see what happened next. 

"He's really not here." His tendrils twitched. "You're not lying, are you?" 

"I don't even know where I am."

"Ugh, you know what, I don't know why I'm getting so worked up over this. I've gotten what I wanted, so now you can leave." 

"But I just got here."

"Just get out." 

Ink stood there, like he hadn't heard anything, and instead observing the surroundings. Nightmare was less than impressed. 

"Go or I'm throwing you out." 

Ink blinked. "Geez, okay, I'll go." He walked way from the corridor, back to the main room. He stepped over the shards, trying not to land on them. But they were everywhere and inevitably, the points find themselves in Ink's feet, his bare feet. "Ow!!" He left through the door in pain.

* * *

Dream wasn't there anymore. But how. How had his presence disappeared completely? Dream hadn't been able to leave all this time, and yet, now he was just gone? 

Nightmare made sure to inspect the room, checking the blankets, under the bed. Nothing. There wasn't many places in this room to hide. He flipped over the pillow, a yellow fabric revealed. It was… Dream's cape. If Dream left by himself by some miracle, why would he leave his cape behind? Nightmare went over to the window, looking through it, but everything was undisturbed. 

Ink couldn't have been lying, could he? That bastard's always been fickle, but even then, what reason would there be? In fact, why was he putting so much thought into this? Dream's gone, and if Ink's taken him, that was good. He needn't worry about him anymore. This was good.

But there had been a disturbance with the negativity earlier. It was strange.

Ink claimed to not be involved, and one did not simply vanish. Not like that. Dream couldn't have… right? There was no dust. Who was he kidding, he was right here. But even he is unsure of the truth of his own statement. What if—

And then Ink walked into his view, on the other side of the window. 

"What are you still doing here!" He demanded.

"You didn't want me in there, so I'm out here." Ink tapped a pencil on his cheek. "I have to say though, this place is quite interesting." He took that pencil and scribbled onto a small notebook.

"Shouldn't you be searching for Dream?" Nightmare crossed his arms as he watched. 

"Nah, he usually does his own stuff. We don't really bother each other." More scribbling. "We usually only meet when… oh! You haven't been going around killing people for a while now, that's great. Are you having a break? Not that I'm complaining, of course, this is a good thing."

Nightmare hoped he could show with his eyes how much he wanted Ink to shut up, but the visual cues went ignored, as usual. 

"What if I told you I've been keeping him here for the past few months? And that he suddenly disappeared, right before you arrived?"

"I haven't got a clue. Hm, maybe he just decided he didn't like it here and left? I don't know why you'd want to keep him with you though, I've never seen you guys not fighting."

"He can't use his powers, and he has a broken leg. So him leaving on his own is impossible." 

"Oh." Ink paused. "So he's missing? This could be a problem." He flipped to another page and penned down something. He tore it out and stuffed it into his scarf.

"Yes it is, and are you _sure_ you haven't taken Dream? I don't like to believe he can disappear like that, he'd be better off with you." Ironically if Ink had been lying about taking Dream, it would be a much more ideal situation.

"I'm sorry to disappoint, but I really haven't seen Dream." 

"… fuck."

"Don't worry, I'll search for him if I can." Ink laughed, "Maybe he's so tired of you, that he's found a way around the impossible." With that, Ink disappeared into an ink puddle before Nightmare could strangle the hell out of him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How does one write Ink


	16. How Regrettable

Had he really been considering it? It was horrible. _He_ was horrible. There had to be another way.

Dream limped over to the window, clutching onto anything that could stop him from falling over and breaking another bone. 

Fortunately the window wasn't too far off, and he reached it with only slight trouble. 

His room was on the first floor, and if he could climb through and _not_ manage to break his other leg on the way down, it would be a wonderful first step. 

He opened up the window, heaved himself up, and stopped halfway through to look down. The ground wasn't too far off at all, but with one leg, it really did seem like a lot of trouble. A lot of trouble, but not impossible. 

On the other side, he let his left leg descend first. It was not quite enough to reach the ground yet. He had to hold on tight to the edges of the window. 

"Dream?" A voice called out. Startled, he let go and fell flat onto the grass. 

Thank the stars for the grass.

It didn't hurt as bad as he had expected. Now he did have to deal with the situation though. He'd been caught by Killer who was holding a few pieces of chopped wood. "Why are you leaving though the window?"

Dream didn't respond. He sat himself up from the grass. What a stupid question. What else could he be possibly trying to do? 

His face must have given his thoughts away, because Killer continued without his input. "I think you should head back inside. It's dark and uh, dangerous out here?"

"…"

"… Do you need some help?" Killer tread closer and extended a hand, albeit awkwardly. 

However, Dream's gaze was still fixed to the darkness of the forest behind Killer, and he thought.

_Maybe there wasn't another way after all._

…

"I'm sorry." Dream said, as he reached for Killer's hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one for now   
> This was before Ink's appearance  
> It's technically chapter 15.5   
> Still working on chapter 16 =w=;;b


	17. Troublemaker

Dream inhaled deeply, his breaths quickened and restless. He sat on a pavement.

What had he done?

_Something he had to._

It had been a dizzying change of scenery, and the orange burned into his view. Gone were the purple hues, and he finally let himself breathe properly again. It evened out eventually, but it was no time to relax. 

There were buildings of concrete, raised up to the skies. He was above ground, somewhere to be particularly cautious. The condition of the universe was yet to be known.

From simple observation, the streets had been lacking in any monsters, of any signs of them. Humans were abundant, many heads tilted down to look at their electronic devices. 

It wasn't anything rare, but Dream usually only went where the monsters were.

It told of a timeline that never made it above ground, or was in the process of. As a suspicious monster, he would only draw unwanted attention. Too bad he couldn't control where he landed in a universe.

He reached out to sling over his cape to conceal his being, only that… it wasn't there. 

_It wasn't…_

He had left his cape behind. 

Internally panicking, Dream had half a mind to return to retrieve it, disregarding all consequences. Thoughts running like a whirlwind, even his worrying demeanor could do them no justice.

It really had been an unpardonable error on his part. How could something like that have happened? It was unthinkable. But going back was inconceivable as well.

In the end, the stronger emotion won out. He was most definitely not going back there. He couldn't, and there was no reason he should turn back now.

_Unforgivable._

Dream grit his teeth, then hurried near a building wall, the pain now a dull ache. He was hoping to reduce his own visibility, but looking like he was now, really did not help.

It was okay. 

If he could make it to night time, he would be able to go wherever he wanted. He could go underground where the monsters were. This was no time to be negative. He need not leave this universe yet. He still hadn't done his job! 

He hadn't done it for months.

But that was alright! He would do it now. He would do it as soon as he can. He wouldn't be useless. Everything would be fine. 

Dream trailed albeit aimlessly, feeling uncomfortable as he continued to recieve odd stares. Though none dared to approach. 

Maybe this was how Nightmare must have felt. He looked like a mess. He felt like a mess. Surely it had to get better in time.

He coughed. 

How was he going to do it?

In the end he settled below a tree, having arrived somewhere less busy than the streets that had been filled with cars and people.

He watched as the sun dipped below the horizon.

Mesmerising were the colours of the skies. It reminded him of simpler times. A tear fell over his cheek, and this realisation only brought more over the edge. He let them flow, as if he hadn't cried enough already.

Then with a harsh wipe, he desperately wiped away all traces of tears. "Stop crying." He told himself. "You've done enough of that." No words of comfort. "It's time to do something."

* * *

"That bastard…" Nightmare growled as he stared at the ink puddle. He had to find Dream. He had to. It didn't matter that he wanted to get rid of Dream just a moment ago. He turned to Horror. "I trust that you can deal with things here?"

Before Horror could respond, Dust sprinted into the room, shocking the other two as a knife swung across the room, smashing yet another window. This time the one in Dream's room. Another found itself embedded onto the wall.

" _What_ do I have to _do_ for some peace over here…" Nightmare's voice dripped with disappointment as he dragged his palm over his face. "I'm leaving this to you, Horror." He opened a portal and left.

"What the fuck!" Horror stood confused. "Dust, what's going on?" 

Dust didn't pay him any mind, more focused on Killer who had been the perpetrator. He summoned bones to defend himself from Killer who had finally ran out of sharp things to toss. Well except for the favourite knife in his hand that he would never throw, of course. "Snap out of it." Dust told him. 

Eyes leaking determination more than ever, it only spoke of insanity. "I saw…" 

"Huh?"

"Dream… he," Killer started laughing, one that was broken, and didn't quite sound like joy. "It's strange." 

"… You saw Dream?"

"Why do I… I just wanted to make it go away, ya know? Why'd you gotta stop me." Only now did Horror notice that Killer's bandaged arm wasn't quite bandaged anymore, and it was possibly, what one might consider, bleeding.

"Dust, what the hell?" Horror was absolutely horrified.

Dust shook his head, giving a quick shrug. He looked just as distressed as Horror, worried eyes never leaving Killer.

"Maybe if I had stabbed him harder." Killer said as he attempted to plunge the knife in his own wound. He was stopped by Dust knocking the knife away and gripping onto his arm. "If he died too, just like the rest," A sharp grin. "It would all fade away in time." Horror helped with the restraining of Killer. But it wasn't hard considering Killer wasn't resisting. He slouched over, and put a palm over his face. "Something is wrong with me. I know it." He slurred. "It just doesn't make any sense…" 

"Right…" Horror dragged Killer along back to Killer's room. "Looks like you need some sleep. And some more bandages." Which Dust had went to fetch. 

So not only was Dream missing, Nightmare had left them to deal with an unstable Killer. What was it that was happening anymore? Nightmare had better come back soon, because he _can_ and _will_ devour the entire fridge from this stress. 


	18. Sins of the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew I'm having a roadblock in my writing.
> 
> But this isn't abandoned or anything, I just need time... confidence, and motivation, maybe. 
> 
> Anyways I wanted to thank all of you for reading and commenting, I really appreciate it. >w<

_It felt like drowning. The suffocating sludge pouring out from within. Nightmare's footsteps were heavy, and it was not quite clear where he was. Was this how it was like to be filled with power? It certainly didn't feel like it._

_Through his daze, he trod forward. The scenery around him changed quickly, flashes of colours like flipping through a photo album._

_He was so sure the sky was red before, but now he could see it stretch endlessly into a distance unknown, a misty fog obscuring any view of the sky._

_…_

_Why was it so cold?_

_…_

_He dragged his feet through the biting cold floor, and he started laughing, like a deranged madman. It didn't matter if it was wrong._

_He had wanted them all to **suffer**. All that pain they inflicted upon him, to be repaid tenfold. The villagers deserved their deaths. They had it coming. It was their just reward. His only regret was killing them too quickly. _

_Oh how horrible, he wished for nothing more than to see their despair ridden faces beg for mercy, only for him to sever them limb by limb. That face of horror, that fear, all because of him. He would be the monster they all wanted him to be._

_Dust scattered over the white ground._

_How delicious, the negativity. It was almost like he could feel it, how vivid was his imagination! He let out another fit of laughter. A sick grin spread over his face at his cruel thoughts._

_But before he can continue revelling in his thoughts, something lodged into his shoulder. He tore it out, turning to see the perpetrator. There stood a skeletal figure with a hand stretched out, cautiously. The figure was not unlike his own, or what he assumed he used to look like, if he looked anything like…_

_No._

_There was no point. He was dead._

_**Dead**._

_There was no point dwelling on the past._

_Mood instantly soured, he redirected his attention to this new intruder._

_The figure, with a glowing eye, waved their arm around. Bones shot from the ground, stabbing right through him._

_The pain didn't come as expected. In fact, you could say he didn't feel anything at all._

_The viscous sludge crawled, and patched over the hole in his chest. With slow steps, he walked closer to them imposingly. The attacks didn't stop, but they were completely ineffective. Who knew he could be completely impervious to physical damage?_

_It was getting boring very quickly for him, while the other was starting to look tired, sweat beads forming on the side of their head, and the short pants from exertion._

_But… why was this happening? Where was he? Who was that figure? What was with all those sunk down in the cold white ground? Nothing was clear to him._

_It didn't matter, in the end._

_He'd slaughter them all. With their suffering, he felt strong._

* * *

Dream woke up to a bed of flowers. Buttercups.

They looked taken care of, pristine and perfect in their imperfection. Well, he only meant those that were left uncrushed by him. Feeling rather guilty, he stepped off them quickly and hopped to his feet, away from the flower patch. A few petals that had stuck onto his clothing scattered to the ground. Well there's that. Someone was going to come yelling.

At least tumbling down a rocky chasm from the mountain had never felt more painless. 

That was a lie. His back hurt, and everything was dark around him. 

No matter. He had finally made it after travelling for days, so he would make sure the trip would be worth it. 

After fumbling around a little, Dream stepped into the ruins. Stark purple walls greeted him, and he took small steps, calling out for anyone who would answer. His voice echoed through the corridors with not a hint of any other.

With every step he took, he only grew warier. Like a looming threat, the silence only grew more oppressive. 

The quiet… it implied things. Not very pleasant things. But maybe that was only him being too pessimistic, which he shouldn't be. He subconsciously gripped tighter onto the weapon.

He saw not a sign of life. Even the spider webs that he observed were filled with dust, fallen to the ground with disuse. The place was abandoned.

It didn't make sense, the flowers looked well taken care of.

By the time he was at the end of the ruins he was contemplating leaving. If there was no one there, then there was no point. But he went on further, just in case.

He pushed the big door open.

Instantly, chilly wind rushed past him. He shivered, just a little. The soft winter snow fell, gently and delicately to join the masses. He stepped out, boots sinking into the cold in crunches.

A lone figure stood in the distance. So there was someone after all…

He observed.

A watering can hung off their fingers loosely, the water easily pouring down into the snow below. Dream could feel an indistinct melancholy from them. He continued observing. They wore a jacket, not unlike many other Sanses. Their hood was decorated with feather-like fluff, a navy blue. 

Suddenly, the figure stilled, and inclined their head towards Dream. 

Dream hadn't been trying to be subtle, but he froze too, not out of shock or anything unexpected, but instinctively. 

Since there was no use in pretending or anything of the ilk, Dream took a few steps closer, and asked tentatively, "Are you alone?"

After a silence that held longer than what was comfortable, a reply. "Take a wild guess." The Sans chuckled, grin just a little sharp. He continued watering the ground, which Dream noticed had little white flowers. "Are you here to kill me?" The Sans asked, to which Dream squeezed the handle of the knife, before putting it away. Oh.

Seeing as the other was not going to answer his question, Dream took the time to observe his surroundings. Silence and emptiness. The buildings chapped and worn, even though they might still be there, there wasn't the presence of anyone. In the end it was a redundant question. He should've known. He took even more steps.

This wasn't the type of sight Dream saw regularly. Not since a long time ago. He knew the timelines that have been ruined by genocide were plentiful. As many as there were happy ones, the ones that weren't, existed all the more. There was a time when he'd visit them, a long, long time ago.

But they were always doomed to fail, a tragedy not of any one's choice but by the will of fate. With such things there was no escape. He had seen countless empty undergrounds, when the human had been successful, or finally given up, or those that had an ongoing massacre. The human had far too much power, and as long as they were determined, nothing would change.

So then Dream gave up on them too, letting them settle in their demise. He focused his attention on more positive timelines, the ones with hope. The ones with a chance. Those happier places became all he ever visited. He wanted the places to stay happy. 

To maximise positivity, it would be good to visit those more despondent ones too, yet he wouldn't go to those, that needed happiness the most. That was just how things were. And now he was only here because he wanted to be anywhere but the castle. 

Dream could only imagine how this timeline fell. What a tragedy. The human world above, completely disconnected and unaware. Because of this, all worlds were almost balanced in positivity and negativity, so it was hard to know until he visited. 

But this Sans, he was alive. Alone. So then…

"Did you do this?" Dream asked instead, yet another rhetorical question. 

"I think the answer is obvious." At this point Dream had come close enough to see the Sans with complete clarity. A cracked goggle hung over his neck, strung up by an unevenly torn red fabric.. From their back, there were what seemed like wings, only, it was in tatters. Patches of feathers clumped together at some parts, while others, well, had a lack of them. It was uncomfortable to look at.

"Why?" 

"You're awfully inquisitive… you're just a… just, you're not even real. Heheh… shut up… stop bothering me." The Sans settled down onto the snow, hunched. "Stop it." 

"Are you okay?" 

"No, shut up. Leave me alone. I don't need any more delusions. No more." Dream sidestepped the watering can hurled at him.

"I'm not… I'm real. My name is Dream." Dream sat down a small distance away from the other. He shivered.

The Sans buried his head in his arms. "There's nobody here but me. Nobody. I can't forget that. I killed you all, understand? Go away." 

"You didn't kill me. I'm not from here. Here, have a clearer look at me." Dream reached out, attempting to get his attention, but the Sans flinched and smacked his arm away before he could even touch. 

At least it got him to look. Though, it would be nice if Dream himself was in a better condition. 

Tired eyes now staring directly at him, the other asked, "Who are you?"

Dream stood up and with the best smile he could give, he did a little twirl, and opened his arms wide. "I'm Dream, the guardian of positivity!"

He could hear the other scoff at this. "Guardian of positivity, huh? Even if someone like that exists, you don't look like one."

"I know…" Dream muttered under his breath.

"Why are you here?"

"I want to spread positivity and joy!" Dream replied, trying his best to sound upbeat.

"Well, there's nobody here you can help. Everyone's dead."

"What about you?"

"I'm as good as dead."

"That's not true, you're still living right? You must have something you still have hope for… or you would already be dead…"

Dream noticed the other turn to the flowers before looking back. "Look, I know you're trying to help. But not everyone deserves to be happy. So leave me alone."

"Do you think, by doing this to yourself, you would be forgiven?"

"You-"

"I don't mean it in bad way." Dream fiddled with his thumbs. "Just that… don't you think it's comforting to know that what you do won't change anything, so you don't have to continue suffering like this?"

"I don't understand. There's nothing else I can do. Are you telling me to die? "

Dream's eyes widened at this. "No! I don't-"

"What can I say? I've got that coming. But what about all the things I've ruined? If I forget, then what becomes of the value of their lives? If I am forgiven, then was it they were sacrificed for? I don't know. I don't know. Idon'tIdon't-" he breathed. "None of them deserved it."

"Will it help ease your mind if you told me what happened?" Dream gazed into the distance, the empty village. "It's okay if you'd rather not."

"I don't know. I don't know. Don't know…"

"Well, I'll be here."


End file.
